A few miles outside Washington Steve Haddaway swerved his dark grey Chevy sedan off the road into the teeming neon jungle that swarmed out of the hot Virginia night along both sides of the highway and braked to a stop in front of the reception office of a run-down motel called The Cherry Blossom. Without looking at the slim, delicately featured blonde sitting beside him, he said, "Whether you like it or not, baby, we're gonna give it one more try."
"What . . . what do you mean, Steve?" Lynn Haddaway, his young bride of ten days, asked anxiously.
"You know goddamn well what I mean," Steve growled. With both powerful hands still locked on the steering wheel, he continued to glare straight ahead of him with the grim expression of a man about to drive through a brick wall. In profile, his jutting brows, strong arrogant nose and blunt chin looked like they had been hacked out of solid granite from some savage mountain side.
"Let's face it," he said finally, in a grating voice. "This hasn't been the greatest goddamn honeymoon in the history of the world."
"But we're almost home, honey," Lynn protested, twisting her slender hands nervously together in her lap.
"Home!" Steve snorted derisively. "I want to take a real wife home. Not a goddamn virgin bride. Tonight I'm gonna do what I should've done a long time ago, baby. It would've saved us both a lot of bullshit."
"But they won't have any rooms left this late," Lynn objected, trying feebly to avoid the real issue.
"They'll have a room left." Steve shrugged his bulky shoulders contemptuously. "When they see this face." Abruptly, he turned toward her and for the first time since she had known him Lynn understood why her friends had told her that Detective Lieutenant Haddaway was one of the most feared men on the entire Washington Police Force. All sign of the tenderness and affection which usually softened his rugged features when he looked at her had been wiped from the stony mask which confronted her now. His cold steel-grey eyes seemed to bore implacably right through her. A lurid chill spiraled up and down the young bride's spine as she suddenly realized how little she really knew about the man she had married.
"You know what kind of a face this is, kid?" Steve asked her harshly. "You're stuck with it for a while, so I might as well tell you. It's a cop's face." He shoved open the car door and started to get out but Lynn caught his arm.
"Steve, honey," she begged him coaxingly. "I know you feel frustrated and disappointed and all, but I warned you we might have a little trouble at first. It's just a question of time and getting adjusted to each other. All the books say so. Please let's go home, honey. Please!"
The powerfully built detective turned and stared searchingly at his young wife again for a long moment. He was breathing heavily as if he was fighting some kind of battle inside himself. Lynn could smell the fumes of alcohol swirling around her face and noticed for the first time how bloodshot his eyes were. God, he's really drunk, she realized with a sinking heart. Earlier they had stopped at a really posh restaurant for dinner. Steve had had three highballs first, instead of his usual one, then most of two bottles of wine with the meal and brandy afterwards. It was the first time she had ever seen him in such a state.
"Fuck the books!" he grunted finally. Ignoring the pinched look of shock on his lovely young bride's face, he slid out of the car and strode truculently toward the reception office. When he barged through the screen door, Lynn saw the sallow night clerk's expression change instantly from one of irritated insolence to a servile eagerness to please. Steve barked an order at him and the poor little man scurried away like a frightened animal.
Fuck the books! Never before had her husband used such coarse crude language to her, Lynn fumed indignantly to herself. She was certainly seeing an entirely different side of him tonight, a side she had never dreamed existed. For the first time she wondered if maybe her mother hadn't been right. Maybe she had rushed into this marriage too hastily. Resentfully, the young blonde stared at the shoddy motel cabins which formed a rectangle around a small scummy-looking swimming pool. God, what an awful place!
"Hold this." Steve shoved a bottle in a brown paper bag at her and climbed back behind the wheel. "We're registered as Mr. and Mrs. Smith and we got a deluxe suite with a view of the pool," he announced sarcastically, swinging the car around into a dusty alley which circled behind the cabins. They were all doubles, Lynn observed mechanically, with front and rear entrances. The rear half of their cabin was apparently empty because there was no other car in the parking space behind it. The rest of the motel seemed to be full, to judge from the motley collection of vehicles they passed. Behind the cabin to their right was a filthy pick-up truck that smelled like a chicken coop and next to it a battered old jalopy painted with weird designs in horrid garish Day-Glo colors. To the left were four big black gleaming motorcycles, all tilted lazily to the same side. They reminded Lynn of panthers about to pounce.
"A real classy joint," Steve remarked drily. "Just the place to lose your cherry, kid. Come on. Let's go." He got out, slammed the car door and started around toward the front of the cabin without so much as a backward glance at her.
So! Now I'm supposed to just hop out and trot behind him like an obedient slave, am I? the young blonde raged silently to herself. Well, if her dear husband thought she was going to spend the night with him in a fleabag like that, he had another thing coming! She was prepared to sit there in the car for as long as it took him to come to his senses. He might be a police officer and ten years older than she was but he was certainly behaving like a spoiled little boy tonight. No wonder he had drunk so much with dinner. He needed the false courage to work up to this ridiculous scene. The great Lieutenant Haddaway! Bitter tears welled suddenly into Lynn's wide limpid blue eyes. Oh, why had Steve gone and spoiled it all at the last minute? In spite of what he'd said, they'd really had a marvelous time on their honeymoon. One of his collegues on the Force had lent them a charming secluded little cottage on a beautiful lake high in the Blue Ridge mountains, with a nearby hunting-and-fishing Lodge where they served fabulous food. The weather had been perfect for July, hot during the day and cool at night. They'd swum, baked themselves in the sun, gorged themselves at the Lodge, taken long siestas. . .
And the sex certainly hadn't been all that bad, even if Steve hadn't been able to really penetrate her yet. God, when it got hard, his penis was just too big! She hadn't been able to bear the pain when he jammed it against the tiny virginal opening of her vagina. But they'd had hours and hours of dreamy wonderful foreplay when he tenderly kissed her and fondled her breasts. She loved it when he sucked her swollen nipples into his mouth. When he played with her clitoris, it wasn't quite so good, though. He was a little rough ...
Lynn knew from the marriage manuals that all these little maladjustments were perfectly normal and would disappear with time. If Steve had just been a little more patient with her... It certainly wasn't as if she hadn't satisfied him at all, judging from the way he groaned and thrashed around when she finally made him cum with her hand. She'd gotten really expert at that, Lynn told herself, stroking the thick loose foreskin up and down his huge throbbing member until his hot sperm spewed out in spurt after spurt all over her crotch and naked belly, even up between her breasts sometimes. God, if he knew how scared she had been the first time she had actually seen his penis erect, with its bulging blood-red head, he would realize how much progress she had already made.
Yes, Lynn mused as she sat miserably alone in the car, if Steve had just given her a little more time, she would have been able to perform her wifely duties to him completely. Unfortunately, as she knew quite well, there was a psychological reason underlying his insistence on possessing her physically before she was ready. She had just graduated from college with a degree in journalism and naturally she wanted to put her education to some use. She wanted to try her hand at a career as a free-lance writer, at least until she had a baby. But every time she brought up the subject of a career, Steve evasively turned it aside. He never came right out and said a woman's place was in the home, but she could feel he believed it. It was one of the things they would have to work out between them.
There was a sudden loud burst of bawdy laughter and music as the rear door of the cabin on her left banged open. In the bright oblong of light a burly, long-haired young man wearing jeans and a tight-clinging tee shirt appeared, fumbling with his fly. Abruptly a long silver jet of urine arced out into the darkness in front of Lynn's unbelieving eyes, making a lewd puddling sound as it spattered into the dusty earth.
"Jesus, Jimmy!" a girl's voice called laughingly from somewhere behind him. "You could at least go around to the side of the cabin."
"What the fuck do they expect?" the boy grinned back over his shoulder. "If they don't unstop their fucking Johns?"
Lynn cringed fearfully down in her seat as she saw him glance over toward the Chevy, raking it with his eyes. From inside the cabin came blasts of country rock, raucous voices and the clink of glass and glass. Gradually, after an interminable length of time, the sparkling arc of urine diminished in erratic spurts as the boy strained to empty his bladder completely. Finally he squeezed the last few drops from his fully visible penis with a couple of obscene jerks of his hand and, with a last insolent glance at the Chevy, went inside.
"Looks like there's a party over there. Maybe we ought'a go over and join 'em."
Lynn gasped and jerked hysterically away when the deep voice boomed right in her ear. Then she realized it was only Steve. She blushed furiously when she realized he must have seen her watching that horrible boy peeing out of the doorway.
"Please, Steve," she begged tearfully. "Take me home. We can't stay here."
"Why not?" the craggy-faced detective sneered. "It looks like a real-down-home place to me. But if you'd rather spend the night in the car, go ahead. Just gimme that goddamn bottle of whiskey." His big hand snaked in through the car window and plucked it from her nerveless fingers.
"All right. Wait. I'll come with you," the frightened young blonde finally yielded, scrambling quickly out beside him. "What about our luggage?" she asked plaintively when her husband merely locked the car and started back toward the cabin.
"This is all the luggage we're gonna need tonight, kid," Steve chuckled, waving the paper bag in the air. "Welcome to the love nest," he added, opening the cabin door with a derisive flourish.
God, it's even worse than I expected, Lynn thought as she surveyed the dingy ill-lit room in total dismay. A rank smell of cheap disinfectant, human sweat and some other undefinable odor which she realized must be the product of countless nights of bestial love-making prickled her sensitive nostrils. A sagging double bed covered with a filthy pink counterpane half-filled the cabin. The only other furnishings were a square table, two rickety straight-back chairs and a round rug which seemed to ooze out of the linoleum-covered floor like some kind of poisonous fungus. In one corner there was a small cubicle where a plastic curtain had been drawn aside to reveal a yellow-stained wash basin and a toilet.
"Why are you doing this to me!" the young bride flared out at her husband in a sudden paroxysm of anger and wounded pride. "Why, Steve! Why!"
"Why am I doing what to you, baby?" Steve shrugged his heavy shoulders carelessly. "Half the guys in the world would give their left nut to have a nice place like this to shack up with their broads in." He went into the bathroom cubicle and brought back two plastic glasses which he placed on the table with the bottle of whiskey. "Siddown and relax, kid," he said in a slurred voice. "Let's drink to love."
"You don't love me!" Lynn blurted out wrathfully. "You wouldn't talk to me that way if you did. You don't even respect me as a person. All you want is a sex object. A whore!"
"Sex object!" her husband hurled back at her.
"I've been waiting for you to come on with that Woman's lib bullshit! Just tell me this, baby. What's a person? Is it male or female? Or something in between?" He sloshed whiskey into the two glasses and tossed one down. "Sex object!" he snorted again. "In my book there are just two kinds of persons. Man and woman. I want a woman. A real woman who digs cock!"
Lynn's ripe young mouth tightened in a prim line as she stared at the man she had so recently married. In a voice dripping with scorn she said, "You're drunk!"
This was too much for Steve. "Wipe that snotty look off your face!" he snarled. "You look just like your goddamn mother!"
Lynn's face blanched and she looked aghast at her husband.
"Yah!" Steve went on recklessly as all his long-buried resentment of his elegant socialite mother-in-law boiled to the surface. "You know what's wrong with your mother, baby? She needs a good fuck! That's all, a good fuck! I bet she hasn't been laid in ten years. She's a goddamn icicle. No wonder your old man walked out on her."
"I'm leaving," Lynn said tonelessly, turning her slender back on him and walking toward the door.
"Sure you're leaving," the husky detective agreed with an ugly grin on his red perspiring face. "You're going back to Mommie. But not right now!" With one cat-like stride he caught her at the door, whirled her around and shoved her across the cabin onto the bed so hard that her momentum carried her up against the wall with a painful smack. The brass buttons of the coat of her navy blue linen suit went spinning in all directions across the dirt-streaked linoleum and the golden-tanned flesh of her shoulder showed through the long rent where both her coat and blouse had been ripped.
"You think your mother's too good to fuck?" Steve raged on, unable in his drunken fury to drop the subject. "She's still quite a dish, baby. I wouldn't mind slipping it to her myself. But tonight I'll settle for you. Take off your panties, Ms. Cockteaser!" he growled ominously as Lynn lay on the filthy pink bedspread, trembling with shock from the violence of his sudden attack.
Slowly and deliberately he began to take off his clothes, folding his shirt and slacks neatly over the back of one of the chairs by the table. When he slipped off his undershorts and started toward the bed, Lynn still hadn't changed her position. She lay crumpled against the greasy cabin wall, panting heavily like a stricken animal. Her eyes flicked nervously from the implacable mask of her husband's angry face to the flaring blood-red head of his thick hard penis which jutted menacingly out at her from its tangled growth of brown pubic hairs. He advanced noiselessly toward the bed on the balls of his feet like a stalking hunter whose blunt deadly weapon was his own throbbing flesh and blood.
"I said, off with, the panties, cockteaser!" he repeated wrathfully. "I want to find out what kind'a person I married. A real-live woman with a nice juicy honest-to-god cunt or some kind of fucking plastic doll!"
When Lynn still didn't move, he yanked her toward him and slapped her hard, a flat vicious blow against her delicately ovalled cheek. Lynn felt her head jerked so violently to the side that for an instant she thought the vertebrae in her neck had snapped. Abruptly she realized that her husband was completely out of control. He no longer knew what he was saying or doing. Frantically she tried to writhe away from his maddened grasp but he caught a fistful of her long honey-gold hair and dragged her back to him until her face was just inches from his glowering blood-flecked eyes.
"Sure, I'll listen!" he rasped at her in a harsh choked voice. "I'll listen! Tell me just how long you thought you could get away with that ball-cutting little game you were playing. Tell me!" Then he slapped her again across the other cheek, his hard blunt fingers raising angry red welts to the surface of her tender skin.
God, he's gone crazy! The thought seared its way through the terrified young blonde's sense of total helplessness and fired her lithe supple body with the strength of desperation. She began to kick and scratch at her husband with hands, knees and feet but she was no match for his strength and strained skill in bodily combat. They struggled in a brief flurry of tangled arms and legs, then she was immobilized with her thighs pinioned under his hairy pelvis and both her slender wrists gripped in one of his powerful fists.
With his other hand he began to systematically rip her clothes to shreds. First went what was left of her torn suit jacket and blouse, then her bra, releasing the full thrusting globes of her proud young breasts with then-delicate milkwhite skin and pouting cherry-red nipples in such alluring contrast to the tanned golden-brown of the rest of her torso. Then her skirt and finally the flimsy nylon shield of her panties, so that she lay totally naked beneath his sadistically inflamed gaze.
Still pinning her shapely tapering thighs under one of his own to keep her from trying to knee him, Steve levered himself up so that he could gloatingly survey her whole defenselessly exposed body, avidly studying her high heaving breasts, following the faultless arc of her smooth flank down to the graceful flaring of her hips and finally coming to rest on the golden vee of silky pubic curls that glowed like a beacon between her long slim legs. There was a demonic expression on his lust-contorted face as if he had never seen her naked before and in a way this was more frightening to Lynn than any of the violent physical things he had done to her. Obscurely she felt that she was being forced to take part in a brutal primitive rite as old as mankind and all she knew was that she didn't want to ... She didn't want to!
"Oh, Steve! Not this way, please!" she whimpered pathetically, all will to resist sapped from her by the knowledge that the man she had taken in holy wedlock meant to heartlessly rape her like the lowest of sluts. "Please, let's talk," she pleaded futilely, even though she knew he was beyond reasoning with. "I only meant to ..."
"Cut my balls off, you bitch!" he snarled at her, driving one hard bony knee between her soft satin-skinned thighs to force them apart. Then his full weight crashed down on top of her. His brawny hairy chest squashed down hard on the pliant mounds of her breasts, almost suffocating her, and she let him force her legs wide open, only hoping and praying that he would finish this disgusting barbaric violation of her person as soon as possible. Somewhere in the back of her mind a little voice sneered, He thinks he's avenging his wounded manhood but he's only proving that he's not a man but a beast!
Then she felt the searing touch of his huge lust-swollen penis jabbing blindly between the fleshy, sparsely haired lips of her cunt, searching for the tiny contracted entrance of her vagina, and the sneering little voice in her mind was drowned by the roaring tumult of her own blood in her ears.
"Oooooooohhhhhhhhh!" she moaned, thrashing wildly under his weight as the slick vaginal hole and began its inexorable pressure to enter the vulnerable sensitive passage. "Nooooooooo! Steeeeeeeve!"
She felt his powerful brute's body tense and then he lunged into her!
"Aaaaaaaggggghhhhhhhh!" the young bride screamed in agony as for the first time the whole bulging head of her husband's thick burning cock rammed all the way through her vaginal lips, spreading them grotesquely. "Noooooooooo! It's killinnnnggggg meeee!"
"Why, baby? It's just a plastic cunt, ain't it?" Steve jeered coarsely as he sank a couple more inches of his hot throbbing rod into her tight virgin pussy.
'' Oooooouuuuuuuuch! Helllllppppp!" the helplessly impaled young blonde cried out in her anguish and fear. She felt the savage male on top of her gather himself for the final thrust. . . And then it came!
"Uuuuuuuunnnnnnhhhhhhhh . . . !" The long animal-like wail of despair broke from deep in Lynn's throat as Steve plowed into her with one last mighty surge, burying his monstrous cock all the way to the hilt in her heaving belly. She felt a brief searing flash of pain through every nerve-end in her tortured body as the fragile membrane of her hymen burst like a bubble under her husband's brutal assault. Then she was aware of the warmth of blood seeping down her lacerated vaginal canal as he began to fuck into her with hard twisting jabs of his rigid penis, heedless of the tears flowing down her cheeks.
'Oooooohhhhhhhhhhhhhh!" she moaned again when he dug his powerful hands under the soft undersides of her thighs, forcing them up and back until she was bent almost double and her toes touched the greasy motel wall behind her head. He began to slam into her cruelly contorted body with hard savage strokes 'that made the bed springs twang noisily under them and seemed to shake the whole cabin.
As Steve's ruthlessly driving plevis smacked harder and harder against the moist sweaty plane of her upturned buttocks, buffeting her golden head roughly this way and that, the lewd slapping sounds of his insane fucking suddenly reminded Lynn of the time her father had spanked her with the flat of his hand when he caught her being a naughty little girl. Her father ... She wondered if he had treated her mother like this and that was why she had divorced him. She had never mentioned him since the day he left the house .. .
The low piteous whimpers that began to fall from Lynn's pain-twisted lips brought no slackening in the fury of Steve's onslaught. He had ten fucking days of piddling around to make up for. Ten fucking days when all she had done was jerk him off and not even doing that as if she enjoyed it. Christ, anybody would think his cock was some kind of poisonous snake the way she handled it.
His bride's body was so sensual and sexy but she was so prissy and finicky, it had goddamn near driven him up the wall. It was her fucking mother's fault. Because she'd loused up her own marriage, she'd brought Lynn up to be a man-hater. Mrs. Helen Timberlane, born a Rowland, descended from a long line of senators, generals, ambassadors . . . The memory of the aloof distant way she always looked at him flooded back into Steve's mind. The stuck-up bitch! The worst of it was that she still looked like a terrific lay. She was forty-one but looked about thirty-five. The cunt! The brawny detective gave an extra vicious thrust of his loins that rammed his bulging cock-head up against the sensitive surface of his young wife's cervix.
"Nuuuuunnnnnhhhh!" the tortured young bride groaned. She was sure now that her insides were ruined forever but it no longer mattered. Even in her physical agony all that she could think of was that the man ruthlessly abusing her body to satisfy his brutish lust was her own husband, the man she had promised to love, honor and obey! And he was using her like the lowest of whores in this sordid foul-smelling bed!
Nothing will ever be the same again, Lynn realized dimly in her pain-stricken mind. Even if some day I do meet a kind, sensitive man who will love me tenderly as I've always dreamed of being loved, it won't help at all because of the terrible thing Steve has done to me tonight!
Abruptly, as the full extent of her shame and humiliation was borne home to the miserable young girl, the last twinge of physical pain vanished from her ravished body and all that remained was mental anguish. She lay passively on the filthy bedspread, dry-eyed now, realizing that the blood slowly seeping from her mutilated vagina was adding just one more stain to the squalid pink cloth and that it had no importance whatsoever.
"Put some action into that plastic cunt, you bitch," Steve growled hoarsely, sensing that somehow she had passed beyond the reach of his vengence. He rammed farther and farther into her bloody dilated vagina, bruising and spreading the walls still wider with his thick rockhard cock in his frantic efforts to bring her to a semblance of life through pain. He reached down and twisted the soft nipples of her full young breasts, pinching them painfully.
Anything to put an end to this horrible act, Lynn vowed as his sweaty hands left her breasts to swarm over her body and gouge into the tender creamy flesh of her buttocks. Anything! Slowly, she began a labored mechanical grinding motion of her pelvis up against the jackhammer thrusts of his hard slick penis, feebly trying to fake a responsive ardor.
"That's better!" Steve snarled with a wild gleam of excitement in his bloodshot eyes. "But faster! Move that little plastic ass faster, you cockteaser bitch!" By god, he thought as he felt his hips arch obediently up toward him off the bed, I've been too fucking easy on this cunt. This is what I should have done in the first place!
Just the mere thought that he had finally found the right button to press in this prissy broad who had nearly driven him off his rocker started the hot sperm churning in his bloated aching balls and he stepped up the tempo of his frenzied thrusts in a dizzying bull-like charge toward orgasm. He felt his pile-driving cock expanding inside the warm wet sheath of her vagina, expanding still more . . . more . . .
Lynn felt it, too, and instinctively realized that the cruel inhuman rape of her body was finally going to end. He took me against my will in hate and anger, she thought mournfully. And now he's going to empty his hate-filled sperm deep into my womb! Like all girls she had often fearfully dreamed of a moment like this . . . The dark night, the unknown perverted assailant leaping out of the bushes, the savage rush . . . She had never dreamed the same thing could happen with the man she had chosen to marry!
"Jeeeeeeezuuuuuussssssss!" Steve groaned through clenched teeth as he felt his pent-up cum boil out of his frantically swinging balls and steam up through his bursting cock deep into the inner depths of his young bride's belly. His powerfully muscled body convulsed in shudder after orgasmic shudder as at last he shot his heavy load of hot virile sperm straight where it was supposed to go. His sense of relief and feeling of male conquest were so intense that he failed to notice that as soon as he started to cum, Lynn ceased to move up to him. His last thought before he dropped off into drunken satiated sleep on top of his bride's sweating submissive body was, Now at last she is my wife! So that's the way it's to be! Lynn thought as she felt the first rush of her husband's semen flood into her vagina and watched the shattering impact of his orgasm peel back his lips in a savage snarl and saw his blood-flecked eyes staring sightlyessly at the greasy wall behind her. That's the way . . . Not the tender beautiful fusing of two bodies in delicious ecstasy I've always expected but this savage brutal assault of a wild beast full of anger and lust coupling with his bitch mate in a filthy stinking den. Well, at least now I know.
Chapter Two
How long she lay there like a zombie half-crushed under Steve's inert weight before she gathered the strength to roll him off her body Lynn couldn't remember afterwards. All idea of time seemed to have disappeared from her mind. Instead of stretching away ahead of her full of delightful prospects as it always had before, the future now rose up around her on all sides like the thick grey walls of a prison.
Yes, the miserable young blonde mused dejectedly, I am just as much a prisoner of the horrible thing Steve just did to me as if I had been tried for some odious crime and given a life sentence. . .by one man. Lieutenant Steve Haddaway, self-appointed judge, jury and executioner!
Gradually, with her mounting resentment, life flowed back into her battered but healthy young body and with it an excruciating awareness of innumerable aches and pains. God, she felt like she had been mauled by a grizzly bear and that wasn't far from the truth, she reflected, feeling the thick brown mat of hair on Steve's chest prickling against her right breast. With a sudden influx of strength she shoved his burly body off her and sat up.
Spots swam dizzily in front of her eyes and for a moment she was obliged to lean against the slimy motel wall for support. It was then that she became aware of the slowly trickling warmth between Her legs and noticed the widening stain of blood on the dirty pink bedcover.
God, I'm hemorrhaging. . .bleeding to death! the frightened young girl thought wildly. She had to get to a doctor quick! She'd read about cases of rape which were fatal if the victims didn't receive proper care at once. They were rare but they did occur, particularly with virgins. Without thinking she reached down and shook her husband's brawny shoulder.
"Steve!" she begged in a pitiful little voice. "Wake up! I'm bleeding!"
"Hhhhnnnnggggrrrrrrpppppp ..." A strangled swinish snort was his only answer and as Lynn watched him an obscene bubble of saliva appeared and burst between his parted lips. Then he rolled away from her onto his stomach and began to snore drunkenly. God, how coarse and disgusting his facial features actually were, the young bride noticed for the first time. How could she ever have found them rugged and handsome? In any case, it was obvious that he wasn't going to be of any help to her now. Somehow she was going to have to get out of this mess all by herself.
For a moment, as she stared glassy-eyed around her and realized the full extent of her predicament, Lynn almost panicked. She had to get to the car, drive to a doctor but she had nothing to wear. There was nothing left of her clothes, absolutely nothing. Bits and shreds of them were strewn all around the sordid little room where Steve had thrown them in his blind fury. And if she tried to sneak out to get her suitcase . . .In her mind's eye she saw the four black gleaming motorcycles all slanting at the same angle behind the next cabin and the longhaired boy urinating from the doorway. God, if they saw her stumbling around in the dark stark naked, they would grab her and rape her all over again. She shivered convulsively, teetering on the edge of hysteria. Then a quiet little voice inside her said,
"Take it easy, Lynn. Get hold of yourself. Stop and think a second. "
Steve's shirt and slacks were folded neatly over the back of the chair. She could wear those . . .She didn't have to drive to a doctor herself. She could just have the reception clerk call one. It was that simple. But the first thing to do was take stock of the real damage. Maybe it wasn't as bad as she had thought.
Carefully, she inched down to the end of the bed and made her way to the cubicle which passed for a bathroom. At first the blanched haggard face with enormous blue eyes which stared back at her from the little mirror above the washbasin startled her. Then she smiled grimly. So that's what a raped woman looks like, she mused, inspecting the red blotches that Steve's rough hands had left on the milk-white skin of her proud up-thrusting breasts. Well, at least she wasn't alone. She'd had plenty of sisters in the course of history, ever since men had started using women as their playthings and slaves and worse.
This sudden sense of solidarity with her own much martyred sex was like a shot of adrenaline in the distraught young girl's bloodstream. She felt her courage flow back and began unhesitatingly to examine her brutally ravished genitals. The usually soft silky golden curls which covered her gently swelling pubic mound were stiff and caked together with blood now. Tenderly, she reached down with both slender hands and pulled her delicately fluted pussy lips apart until she could see the tiny inflamed head of her clitoris in the raw-looking valley of her cunt. A drop of bright red blood spattered on the worn linoleum between her legs, followed by another .. .and another . . .Then they stopped.
What a silly little ninny I am! she silently admonished herself. To get so excited by a simple case of rape! There's probably one happening every minute somewhere in the world!
After one glance at the two frayed grey-white towels hanging by the washbasin she went back into the bedroom and searched until she found what was left of her blouse which Steve had ripped to shreds with his powerful hands. What a big strong man you are, dear husband! she sniffed, looking disdainfully over at the bed where Steve's naked muscular body was sprawled obscenely on the filthy counterpane. His face happened to be turned toward her and she could see spittle drooling from a corner of his open mouth. Even at that distance she could smell the disgusting reek of alcohol on his breath. The sight of him was so loathsome to her that she went to the door and snapped off the single light that lit the room.
Dear husband! But not for long, she promised herself grimly as she returned to the bathroom/ Tomorrow when they reached Washington she would go back to her mother's house instead of to the apartment which Steve had recently rented for them and the first thing on her agenda would be to make an appointment with a lawyer to start divorce proceedings. Then she would see about getting a full-time job with one of the local newspapers and if ever again she had anything to do with a man, it would be on terms of complete equality where she was accepted as a person in her own right.
Buoyed by this decision, she moistened the remains of her blouse under the faucet and began to gently sponge the, clotted blood from her abused genitals. Gradually, the smarting pains which lanced from far up in her vagina out to her bruised swollen pussy lips began to diminish and soon she even felt strong enough to drive. For a moment she was tempted to dress up in Steve's clothes and take off in his car, leaving him stranded there, naked, penniless and without identification. It would make a nice juicy headline when the truth came out, she chuckled grimly to herself. . .and she could easily make sure that the truth did come out.
BRUTALIZED BRIDE ABANDONS POLICE LIEUTENANT
Something like that. . .and the lead paragraphs of the article would be dillies, too. Quickly, in her mind, she composed them:
At nine o'clock this morning a man wearing only a bloodstained bedspread appeared at the manager's office of the Cherry Blossom Motel, claiming that he was a Mr. Smith and his clothes and car had been stolen during the night. . .
Inspection of the cabin he had occupied revealed blood-soaked sheets and bits and pieces of women's clothing torn to shreds and thrown helter-skelter as if someone had gone berserk. .
Subsequent investigation revealed that the so-called Mr. Smith was none other than Detective Lieutenant Steven Haddaway of the Washington Police Force and that the "thief" was his young bride, the former Miss . . .
That would really fix Steve's wagon for him, Lynn mused vengefully, and there was no doubt in her mind that he deserved anything he got, but. . .Well, it was just too bitchy. It would be like lowering herself to his level and, besides, she was looking forward to the confrontation with him in the morning when he woke up sober and tried to apologize. Her dear husband had a few surprises coming to him and she didn't want to miss the expression on his face when she told him exactly what she thought of him.
Smiling in anticipation of that moment, the resilient young blonde finished bathing herself as well as she could and rinsed the blood out of her torn blouse. She had just flicked out the light in the bathroom cubicle when she heard a door bang open and footsteps shuffling toward her. The sounds were so clear that for one awful instant the petrified girl thought they came from the room Steve had rented. Then she realized with a gasp of relief that someone must be moving into the rear half of the cabin. There was the faint click of a light being switched on, then a woman's husky contralto voice said,
"Jesus! What a dump!"
"Aw, fuck it! It's just for one night, baby," a man replied. "Tomorrow you go to D.C. and rent us a nice house in the country where we don't have no nosy neighbors snooping around. And don't forget. The sky's the limit."
"Big deal," the woman retorted sarcastically. "If the sky's the limit, why the hell do we have to spend the night in a shit-hole like this?"
"Because it's the last place in the world the fuzz would think of looking for me."
"Yeah, yeah," the woman grumbled. "Big deal."
The last place in the world the fuzz would think of looking for me! Lynn repeated gleefully to herself. Scarcely daring to breathe, she glued her ear against the flimsy partition and fervently prayed that the unseen couple would keep talking. Even if she hadn't been trained in college as a journalist, she would have instinctively known that she was on the track of something big. Every bone in her body told her that by pure luck she had stumbled on a big story just when she needed it most. An exclusive. Maybe a front page scoop!
There was the sound of quick steps crossing the floor, then the woman's voice was raised in a startled squeal of pain. "Ouch! What's that for?"
"Get naked, big deal," the man growled impatiently. "I've had a hard-on for the last two hundred miles."
"Why didn't ya say so, Blitz?" The woman's voice was servile and roguish at the same time. "I'd 'a given ya a little deep throat, honey."
"Yeah, and I heard about too many guys ending up wrapped around telephone poles with their cocks in some broad's mouth fifty feet away."
"Jesus, they don't call you Blitz for nothing, do they, honey?" the woman cooed. "I didn't mean while you were driving, man. You could've stopped the car for a few minutes, no?"
"Guess I never thought of that," the man chuckled complacently. "When I start rolling, I don't like to stop. But I'm stopped now," he added with a leer in his voice.
"Uuuuuuuummmmmmm ..."
The woman's throaty purr of appreciation was followed by the unmistakable sound of a zipper. In the darkness of her little cubicle Lynn's cheeks were burning because of the sudden lewd turn the unseen couple's conversation had taken. It really revolted her but she had to keep listening in case they said anything more about whatever they had done or were planning to do. It was obvious that some kind of crime was involved but all she knew for sure was that the man called Blitz was wanted by the police and that tomorrow they were going to rent an isolated house in the country near Washington. A hideaway.
There was silence for a while, then a strange rhythmic sound that Lynn couldn't identify, followed by a loud slurp like a plug being pulled from a drain.
"Jesus, baby," the man said in a hoarse voice. "Take it easy. I don't wanna shoot my load yet. We got business to talk."
"Aw, since when the great Blitz Parker can't take a little sucky-sucky?" the woman chuckled in her husky voice.
Blitz Parker! Remember Blitz Parker! Lynn repeated to herself, trying vainly to blot the rest of the obscene conversation from her distraught mind.
"Take a look at this," the man said. Snaps clicked open and the woman gave a low reverent whistle.
"Jeeee-zussss, Blitz. How much is in there?" "Ten G's, baby, and that's just for expenses. It don't include the rent for the house."
"Ten grand for one week?"
"Yeah. Heinz likes his little luxuries, ya know."
"I've heard! The sadistic little creep!" The woman's voice throbbed with a mixture of contempt and fear and some other emotion that Lynn couldn't place. Maybe fascination . . .
"Yeah, well, it's his tango," the man said drily. "That's what he calls it. He says, 'Dis vill be mein letzt tango in de United States uff Amerika, ja!' "
"That slimy little creep! He drives me up the wall," the woman said. "Say, if all that bread is just for expenses, how do I pay the rent on the house."
"I'll tell ya in bed, baby. Let's get with it, huh?"
"Okay, honey. Just give me a sec."
Lynn heard the woman coming toward her and instinctively shrank back just as a blade of light suddenly sliced through a crack in the jerry-built partition which evidently separated the bathroom she was in from a similar one on the other side. There were intimate sounds of urinating and washing, then the woman flicked off the bathroom light and walked away. The crack of light in the wall remained, however. Lynn realized it must be coming from the couple's bedroom. The woman must not have pulled the plastic curtain back across the bathroom entrance. Cautiously, with a loudly thudding heart, the young blonde leaned forward and placed her eye to the crack. What she saw made her suck in her breath so loudly that surely she would have been heard if the man hadn't spoken just at that moment.
"C'mere and siddown, baby, while I fill you in on the details."
He was lying stark naked on a bed directly in Lynn's line of vision, facing her, with his sinewy legs spread apart and his long hard penis clutched lovingly in one hand. His head was propped up on a couple of pillows and before she turned away with a sickening sense of revulsion, Lynn registered the facts that his hair was blond, a little darker than her own, and that he was almost handsome in a cruel thin-lipped sort of way.
The recently raped young girl leaned weakly against the wall of her dark foul-smelling little cubicle, desperately fighting down an urge to retch. She pressed her clenched fist to her mouth and tensed her stomach muscles in a vain effort to control the heaving spasms that racked her slim curvaceous body. She knew that if the couple in the next room heard her vomit or even move, she would never learn anything more about the crime they were going to commit. And she had to!
She had to get to the bottom of this thing to prove to her drunken husband and the rest of the world that she could stand on her own two feet. . .That she was a first-class citizen worthy of respect, even if she was a woman. Heinz Heinz Heinz! she repeated fiercely to herself. Heinz the ringleader, Heinz the sadist, Heinz who likes his little luxuries. Remember that. Remember Heinz, Blitz Parker, isolated country house, unlimited funds apparently . . .Gradually, her nausea subsided and Lynn was able to look through the crack again. She had to at least get a glimpse of the woman so that she could identify her later if it was necessary.
The man called Blitz was still lying alone on the bed, gently stroking the thick white foreskin up and down his elongated penis. Lynn tried not to look at its bulging purplish head that gleamed lewdly in the light of the bare bulb hanging down from the ceiling but it was almost impossible not to. Concentrating on his face, she decided he was about thirty years old and in excellent physical condition. He had the trim-muscled body of a highly trained athlete and even lying there on his back he radiated a kind of savage feline power.
"First of all, you'll be using your own name," he said casually.
"I don't like that," the woman replied, moving for the first time into Lynn's range of sight.
"It's simpler, baby," Blitz said laconically. "You got no record. You've never been on a job before. Nobody can connect you with me or Heinz or Hammerhead, so the stoolies can't finger you. You're perfect just the way you are. Anyhow, it's too late to change now. You got a bank account in D.C. with fifty thousand dollars in it."
There was a brief stunned silence during which Lynn tried to mentally note down everything she had just learned while she studied the profile of the naked woman standing beside the bed. She was an exotic-looking olive-skinned brunette with long thick black hair and a voluptuous body that exuded raw animal sexuality. The seductive line of her neck sloped down to ripe heavy breasts capped with jutting brownish nipples that glistened as if she had just wet them. She must have been in her late twenties but her belly was as flat as a teenage girl's and the skin around her alluringly rounded buttocks was taut and firm. As she turned slightly, Lynn at first thought that her pure madonna-like face was truly beautiful. Then she saw that, like the man's, it was flawed by a cruel hardness around the mouth.
"Fifty thousand dollars!" the brunette gasped finally, sinking down on the bed beside her lover. "Man, you gotta be kidding!"
"It's no shit, Rita." The blond gangster's thin lips curved in a tigerish smile as he watched the swift play of emotions over the blackhaired girl's face. "I told you this was big time, baby. Heinz opened the account in your name two weeks ago."
"But why? Why so much?" Rita asked in a puzzled voice. Absentmindedly, as if she was unaware of what she was doing, she reached out and coiled her slim fingers around the thick throbbing base of Blitz's penis, pricking its swollen underside lightly with her sharp red-lacquered nails. The other hand she scooped under the heavy drooping sac of his balls and began to gently knead the muscular orbs together. When he didn't answer right away, she bent down until her soft sensual lips were only an inch from his gleaming purplish cockhead. "Why?" she murmured throatily, as if speaking to his obscenely distended member.
Rita Rita Rita, Lynn repeated groggily as she forced herself to continue to observe this vile exhibition. What shocked her most was the brunette's casual attitude as she performed the lewd degrading acts the man on the bed obviously expected of her. Had she no self-respect left at all?
Then, to Lynn's surprise, Blitz pushed Rita's head roughly away from his penis. "Leave it alone and listen for a minute, will ya, for chrissake. Sometimes I think you're too hung up on sucking. I wanna fuck tonight."
"Awww," Rita pouted. "I'd like a little sixty-nine fora change."
"You want your cunt sucked, get yourself a girl friend," Blitz grunted crudely. "Like I was saying, Heinz likes luxury. He likes thick rugs, antique furniture, nice pictures on the walls and the best in hi-fi equipment. That's important. He keeps the fucking music going twenty-four hours a day. It's his only hang-up."
"Yeah .. .I heard he had another hang-up," Rita said.
Blitz chuckled cynically. "It's true Heinzie has a weakness for nice tight virgin little assholes but aside from that, music is his big thing. So before you even go look at a place, make sure there's a good hi-fi system. Stereo in the dining room, the living room and at least one bedroom. That's the reason for the big bank account. The way the place has to be furnished they'll ask for a big deposit and probably check your story with the bank."
"Listen, Blitz," the darkhaired girl said slowly, twisting her fingertips idly in her lover's blonde pubic hairs. "Ten grand in the case and fifty in the bank. Sixty thousand dollars. That's a lot of bread. Why don't we just take it and split. We could hole up somewhere."
"Where, baby? In Siberia?" Blitz asked drily. "You must be out'a yer fucking skull."
"Yeah, I guess that creepy little bastard has that angle figured out," Rita agreed. There was a troubled uneasy expression on her slightly flawed face.
"Even in Siberia you'd maybe last a week," Blitz said laconically. "Heinz has connections everywhere. But that ain't the real reason we don't split for no chickenshit sixty grand. This little tango is gonna make the Brinks robbery look like peanuts. And there's no goddamn fence taking out his cut. Gold don't have no serial numbers stamped on it, you can sell it anywhere in the world and the price of the goddamn stuff has quadrupled in two years. Quadrupled! Jesus Christ, it blows my mind just to think about it. You can always try, though, baby," he added with his cruel Little smile. "When you go to D.C. tomorrow, just go to the bank and draw out the fifty G's."
"You know I'd never do that, Blitz," the black-haired girl simpered meekly.
"Goddamn right I know it," the blond thug growled menacingly. "Now roll over and spread those pussy lips, kid," he ordered, clutching his long hard throbbing cock in one hand like a club. "Daddy wants to go home."
"Okay, Blitz," Rita sighed obediently as she stretched out on the bed beside her lover. "What's my cover, honey? Who do I say I am when I go to the agency?"
"I'll tell ya after," Blitz grunted, rolling over on top of the luscious brunette.
Damn! Damn! Damn! Lynn gritted silently to herself. If only the man had told Rita who she was to be,... what her cover story was to be ... or what agency she was going to ... she would have had enough information to trace them tomorrow. She wouldn't have had to stand there any longer in that foul-smelling cubicle listening to their filthy language and watching their disgusting animalistic coupling. But now she had to. She didn't know when they would finish . . . what they were doing . . . and was afraid of missing something important.
In spite of herself the distraught young blonde gasped aloud as she saw Rita's slim shapely legs splay out to either side of the lithe athletic body on top of her, then snake up and link themselves tightly together around her lover's broad smooth-muscled back. The ragged, pinkly glistening lips and moist quivering valley of the voluptuous brunette's cunt flashed briefly in the crude light overhead, then Blitz sank down on her with his long hard penis aimed directly at the pulsating entrance of her vagina and the rear view of the heavy, almost hairless sac of his balls swinging down between his tensed buttocks was all that Lynn could see.
Stifling a sob, the unnerved girl averted her gaze from the lascivious sight but her own alerted loins tingled feverishly with the memory of the unbearable pain she had suffered just a little while before in an almost identical position. Her heart went out to Rita who was forced by circumstances to pretend to welcome this vicious rape of her femininity. The brunette was corrupt, of course, the accomplice of an evil man, but it probably wasn't her fault. In the brutal surroundings where she had been brought up the poor girl had probably never been treated as anything but a sex object, a plaything and servant for men. She had read of how such girls were martyred before they were six or seven years old, by their brothers, even their fathers . . .
"Oooooooouuuuuuuggggggghhhhhhh!" The long, banshee-like wail that broke from Rita as Blitz sank his long hard cock all the way into her wide-split cunt with one savage rapier-like thrust made Lynn bite her knuckles in instinctive sympathy. The two obscenely locked figures were motionless as an instant, then Blitz began a slow pistoning into the helplessly impaled girl beneath him. He withdrew his wetly glistening rod of swollen flesh almost to the mushrooming end with the out-turned petal-like pink flesh of her cunt clinging hungrily to the slick shaft and then plunged it hard all the way back into the depths of her belly.
Lynn's limpid blue eyes widened in disbelief as she saw Rita arch her back eagerly up off the bed and buck up her voluptuous hips with a twisting motion to meet her ravisher's impetuous in-thrusts. The wanton brunette seemed to be desperately trying to suck not just his cock but also his wildly swinging balls into her voracious cunt. Her raven-haired head began to flail uncontrollably from side to side on the bed.
"Fuck me, Blitz! Oooohhhhh, fuuuuccccckkkkk . . . meeeeeee! Yeeeesssssss! Shiiiiiiiiit! I feel your big hot cock in my cunt. Fuuuuuuuccck, fuuucccckkkk meeeeeee!"
The lewd horrid obscenities that the shameless Rita chanted over and over in a kind of semi-delirious litany drifted through the flimsy partition, sending prurient ripples of fascinated revulsion through Lynn's perspiring body. Never in her life would she have believed that a member of her own sex could descend to such depths of immodesty.
She watched incredulously as Blitz shifted his position slightly, so that he could bring his hand down into the wide-split crevice of Rita's ass. The tip of his stiffened middle finger teased the tightly puckered opening of her anus for a moment, then jammed viciously through the elastic little ring, disappearing all the way up to the second knuckle.
"Oooooouuuuuhhhhh!"
Another tortured moan was dragged from the doubly skewered brunette's throat, bringing responsive tears to Lynn's eyes. She felt a sudden tingling jolt of eerie sensation deep in her own bowels as if some imaginary intruder had unexpectedly speared her from behind and instictively clenched her own shapely buttocks tightly together. Even as she was wondering how it was possible for one human being, even a criminal type like the man Blitz, to subject another to such cruel vile indignity, Rita began to screw her ass down hard on the impaling finger in an orgy of masochistic pleasure.
"That's it, Blitz! Split me! Hurt me!" she hissed in a whining voice, obviously revelling in this abominable defilement of her shameless flesh. "Ohhh, shiiiiit, yes! Fingerfuck me up my asshole, you crazy bastard!"
The total abject submission of the older girl to her pitiless lover's brutal ministrations suddenly ignited the spark of erotic excitement smouldering deep in Lynn's sex-starved loins. A long shudder wracked her curvaceous body'and she had to fight with all her willpower to keep her slender hand from stealing down of its own accord to the bursting little bud of her clitoris which was wildly clamoring for the attention of her soft experienced fingertips. But no! she fiercely rebuked herself. She wouldn't! She wouldn't give in to the temptation to make herself cum! That would make her no better than the disgusting animals writhing together on the filthy bed in the next room in their obscene parody of lovemaking.
Even so, she was so completely mesmerized by the sight of the wildly fucking couple that all thought of the story she was going to write, the information she was waiting to learn, disappeared from her sex-dazed mind. Every nerve-end in her erotically charged body tingled with lewd desire and her own shapely hips began an unconscious rhythmic churning motion of their own. Part of her wanted to tear away from the depraved spectacle but she couldn't move. Her own belly seemed to swell in anticipation as Blitz redoubled the pace of his furious pounding at Rita's upward jerking cunt and Lynn sensed intuitively that they were both aout to cum.
'' A a a a a i i i i i i i i e e e e e e e e e ! I'm cuuuuuuuumrnmmmiiiinnnngggggg!"
The brunette's piercing scream of barbaric triumph as she crested the wave of her tempestuous climax soared above Blitz's low guttural groan as he began to pump his seething viscous cum deep into his mate's convulsing vagina. For an endless moment they continued to thrash and writhe together, throwing their naked sweat-glistening bodies at each other like maddened animals in the throes of their savage primitive orgasm. Then gradually they subsided.
Shaken to the very core of her being by what she had witnessed, Lynn continued to lean weakly against the partition. She couldn't move . . . couldn't move because of the silent storm of desire still raging in her own loins. When she saw the thin rivulet of cum trickling from Rita's puffed, pinkly gleaming vaginal lips, her head spun giddily with the whiplash effect of her own frustration. Fighting feebly for self-control, she moved away from the partition and sat limply down on the toilet seat. She felt like she had run a mile at top speed.
Is that normal? she asked herself. That crazy, totally abandoned sexual explosion the couple in the other room had touched off in each other's bodies . . . Was it normal? Could every woman have orgasms like that? Memories of her own pitiful self-induced climaxes, so mild and tepid compared to the primitive display of passion she had just seen flickered through her overwrought brain.
But no! Abruptly, Lynn was filled with self-disgust and her full lips tightened irt a prudish line. The man Blitz was a criminal ... no better than an animal . . . and he had turned Rita into his personal slave and whore, no matter what she may once have been. The lascivious image of the dusky raven-haired girl's soft sensual mouth hovering just above the swollen purplish head of her lord and master's penis flashing through the young blonde's mind again, then she resolutely blanked it all out. Her job, she reminded herself sternly, was to find out all she possibly could about the crime they were going to commit. Their personal lives were none of her affair.
Still her heart pounded excitedly in her breast as she leaned forward to peer through the crack again. Blitz had rolled off Rita but she was still curved snugly against him, with her knee between his strong sinewy thighs and her head nestled against his muscular shoulder. They both seemed to be asleep. Then suddenly Blitz's lids flew open and his tawny-yellow cat's eyes seemed to stare straight at Lynn as if he had sensed her presence behind the partition. Rita stirred drowsily beside him.
"You'll keep that creepy little bastard away from me, won't you, Blitz?" she asked in a little-girl voice.
"Heinz?" Blitz asked. "Not to worry, babe. He only likes blue-eyed blondes." A cruel smile flickered quickly around his thin lips, then he reached behind him and switched off the overhead light.
Silently Lynn crept out of the bathroom cubicle and groped her way along the wall in the darkness to the bed where Steve was breathing heavily through his open mouth. With some difficulty she rolled him over on his side and wrapped him in the filthy bedspread, then gingerly crawled between the damp rough sheets. It was just as well she couldn't see them, she told herself with a grim little smile. God only knew when they had last been washed or who had done what in them. But she didn't really care. She was so tired she felt like she had been put through a wringer.
Slowly, as she concentrated on what she would have to do tomorrow, the night's tensions were drained from her healthy young body and she soon drifted off into deep dreamless sleep. Even though she hadn't learned all she had hoped to, she was filled with elation. She was sure she knew enough to find the gang's hideaway and turn them over to the police. Her last conscious thought before she sank into peaceful oblivion was of an eight-column front page headline ...
GIRL REPORTER SMASHES CRIME GANG THWARTS HOLD-UP OF THE CENTUR Y. . .
Chapter Three
Police Lieutenant Haddaway wasn't used to heavy drinking. When he woke up the next morning, en enormous gong clanged in the dark labyrinth of his brain, sending shock waves of pain reverberating along the inner corridors of his skull. His mouth tasted like someone had stuffed an old sheepskin in it during the night. When, very cautiously, he finally opened his eyes, the single sliver of sunlight which entered the motel room through a rent in the window shade pierced him in the exact center of his forehead with the force of a spear hurled at close range.
With a gritted curse he clutched his head in both powerful hands and vainly tried to squeeze the pain out of it. Gradually the feverish throbbing subsided enough for him to open his eyes again. Directly above him he saw a dirty yellow ceiling spotted with whorled marks where the roof must have leaked. He was lying naked on a sour-smelling bed and curled against him was a soft smooth-skinned girl. Her blonde head was snuggled cozily under his armpit and her uppermost leg was hooked intimately over his thigh so that her knee pressed tightly against his cock and balls. Some of her long silky-gold hair had fanned out over his brawny chest and he felt the delicate tickling of her breath on his skin as she breathed against his side. It took him a long time to realize that the girl was Lynn.
Abruptly, his head felt clear as a bell. The dull throbbing and knife-like pain between his eyes vanished as if by a miracle. A broad grin split his rugged features when the memory of what had happened the night before came clearly back to him in all its vivid detail. By God, I pulled it off! he mused exultantly, remembering how he had finally smashed through his wife's maidenhead and how her hips had begun to rise responsively toward his at the end. He'd gambled . . . gone for broke ... in bringing Lynn to a sleazy joint like this. . . but he'd won! His heavy cock lurched mightily against the smooth skin of her knee and began to harden rapidly with the renewed desire to plunge into her hot little cunt again and feel the soft moist sheath of her vagina snugly clasping his rigid rod the way it finally had last night.
Very gently he rolled her away from him onto her back and stared hungrily down at the harmonious symmetry of her beautifully ovalled face and lissome young body. Her lips were faintly parted, showing the pearly white edges of her small white teeth, and her proud cherry-tipped breasts with their softly tinted pink coronas rose and fell gently as she breathed. Innocently asleep like that, she looked like she was about fourteen years old.
For the first time since he had known her the hard-bitten police lieutenant felt an overwhelming surge of loving tenderness for his young bride. Until then his feelings for her had been a curious mixture of crude lust for her succulent young flesh and an almost reverent respect for the purity of her mind and soul. Yeah, soul, he repeated silently to himself. He'd seen so much of the seamy side of life, the word sounded funny coming from him, but there was no other goddamn way of describing what he meant.
When he'd first started dating Lynn, she'd seemed so pure and unapproachable, he had hardly dared touch her. Even when she had accepted his proposal of marriage, even on their honeymoon, he had continued to respect her virginal purity. Both she and her elegant mother seemed like beings from a race apart somehow. Gradually, however, his frustrated lust had worked up to the bitter explosion of the night before ... And now she was really his wife!
Greedily but gently he bent down his craggy face and sucked her berry-like nipple into his mouth while his hands began to rove tenderly over the graceful contours of her sleeping body, caressing the smooth firm flesh of her flanks and buttocks, brushing the fleecy golden vee nestling between her thighs. The thought of the luscious cunt hidden beneath those silky pubic curls made his mouth suddenly water. God, what he wouldn't give for a taste of her juicy little clit. Cautiously, he began to trail wet kisses down her satin-skinned belly toward the magic triangle.
Lynn was dreaming that she and Steve were swimming side by side through the crystal clear waters of the little lake high in the Blue Ridge Mountains. The hot July sun beat down on their backs and they swam effortlessly, seeming to be drawn on by a mysterious current, until they reached a small island she had never seen before. Steve took her by the hand and led her down a faint path through the tangled underbrush until they reached a grassy clearing underneath a giant pine tree. The sultry air was full of the aroma of melting pitch and unseen birds chirped sleepily in the afternoon sun.
She lay down under the tree and Steve took off the top of her bathing suit to suck and fondle her breasts. His mouth felt so sweet and gentle, tugging at her swelling nipples, she tangled her slender fingers in his wiry brown hair to hold him tighter against her. Blissful eddies of delicious sensation swirled across the surface of her skin from her breasts down across her belly to her awakening loins. The tip of Steve's finger curled around the tingling little bud of her clitoris and lovingly teased it ... better than he ever had before. It was wonderful. Her hips began a gentle undulation and she wished the dreamy rapture could go on forever. Gratefully, she squeezed her thighs together to capture that tantalizing finger more tightly between her pussy lips. Something harsh rasped against her sensitive skin, something harsh and bristly, like a wire brush rubbing her raw.
"Steve! What are you doing!"
For a split second after the horrified young blonde's eyes flew open and she saw the tangled thatch of brown hair bobbing between her legs she didn't clearly understand what was happening. Then she realized that it was her filthy brute of a husband's unshaven chin that had awakened her . . . and he was . . . kissing her down there . . . licking her with his tongue! Like a dog! While she was asleep!
"You horrible filthy disgusting man! Get away from me!" she hissed venomously at him. She drew back both her legs and lashed out savagely at him with her feet, landing hard blows on his cheeks and shoulders, driving him back.
"But Lynn, honey ..." Steve mumbled bewilderedly. "I thought... I mean you seemed to be enjoying it!"
"Enjoying it!" Lynn screamed at him in a frenzy of disgust and anger. "After what you did to me last night! I never want to see you again! Don't you dare touch me! All I want from you is a divorce! Take me home to Mother!"
Steve lumbered slowly to his feet, his face congested with rage, his powerful hands clenching and unclenching convulsively at his side. He took one menacing step toward the head of the bed, glowering down at his bride as if he would like to choke her to death. Then without a word he grabbed his pants off the chair, yanked them on and slammed out of the cabin. A second later Lynn heard a loud splash as his hard-muscled body hit the water in the pool outside in a flat racing dive and he began to thrash his way up and down its length like a man swimming for his life.
On the other side of the thin partition \yall Blitz Parker was instantly awake and fully alert at the first sound of the quarrel in the adjoining room. He heard every one of Lynn's infuriated cries as clearly as if she had been in the same room but the man apparently didn't answer. A door slammed, then came the sound of a woman sobbing. The blond gangster's tawny eyes narrowed as he thought over the implications of this.
"Rita!" he whispered intensely, roughly shaking the voluptuous brunette who was still deep in slumber beside him while he wracked his brain to remember exactly what he had said the night before. Whatever it was, it was too goddamn much. If he could hear the couple in the next room that clearly, they could just as easily have heard him. Particularly the man. Why hadn't he shouted back at the broad or clouted her one the way an ordinary guy would have? Maybe because he knew sound travelled through that fucking wall like it wasn't there? Maybe the sonuvabitch had heard . . .
Beads of sweat broke out on Blitz's forehead as the details of what he had told Rita about the last tango caper the night before gradually came back to him. Christ, he'd mentioned gold boullion! The rest wasn't so bad but if the guy next door had overheard that part about the gold boullion and passed it on to the fuzz, they could put two and two together and figure out what the target was. Also he'd mentioned Heinz by name. That was the worst. There probably wasn't a cop in the whole fucking world who didn't know who Heinz was.
Blitz Parker had the well-earned reputation of being totally coldblooded, without a nerve in his body. Before he had been stripped of his fighter pilot commission and given a dishonorable discharge from the Air Force for black market activities in Vietnam, he had been cited for valor three times. Since then he had been involved in several spectacular heists in the United States and Latin America, sometimes as driver, sometimes as pilot. His split-second timing and coolness under fire were legendary. He had nothing but contempt for the forces of law and order, whether local police, FBI or Interpol. But when he thought of the pudgy little man with piggish eyes who was known simply as Heinz wherever crime flourished thoughout the world, his stomach did a weird flip-flop. If Heinz ever learned that he had blown the last tango deal. . .
"Rita!" he hissed again, savagely pinching the sleepy brunette's left nipple and clamping his other hand over her mouth as she finally woke up. "Don't talk," he warned her in a barely audible voice. "They can hear everything we say next door, through the wall. Understand?"
Gradually, Rita's dark eyes widened with comprehension and she nodded her head. Blitz took his hand off her mouth and murmured in her ear.
"The guy's just had a fight with his wife. She turned him off and he barged out of the cabin without saying anything. At least I couldn't hear him. I don't like it. But he's pissed off and horny. Go out and try to bring him back here. There won't be anybody else around. Christ, it ain't even five-thirty yet. Tell 'im you couldn't sleep either. Tell him you hate sleeping alone or any goddamn thing. Make him talk. If he don't want to come back with you, I figure it may be because he knows his wife can hear what's going on. Then he's in trouble. Got it?"
Rita nodded and sat up in bed. Blitz swiftly pulled on his clothes, opened the suitcase and took out a small automatic which he dropped into the pocket of his pants. He hated using hand guns, it wasn't his job, but he couldn't afford to take a chance on this one. Maybe the poor bastard hadn't overheard a fucking thing but if he didn't come back with Rita, he was finished.
He tossed the exotic brunette a white embroidered cotton dressing gown he had bought her in Florida, indicating that she was to wear it. He nodded approvingly as she slipped into the almost transparent garment which provocatively set off the shapely curves of her buttocks and deep full breasts. She smiled and gave him a sleepy sultry look that started the old familiar ache in his balls in spite of the trouble he might be in.
"Jesus," he muttered. "If that poor bastard don't come back with you, he's had it." With a wolfish grin he picked up the dispatch case with the ten grand in it, eased open the door and glanced outside. Then he silently disappeared.
After ten minutes, propelled by anger and frustration, Steve Haddaway was still churning furiously up and down the length of the little motel pool. The water was murky and left a foul taste of chlorine in his mouth but at that point he could care less. All he knew was that he had to keep on swimming or he might go back to the cabin and do something to Lynn that he'd be sorry for afterwards. And the prissy little bitch wasn't worth it. Christ, she'd really taken him for a ride, he told himself grimly. Her and her fucking hoity-toity mother. Well, no point in crying over spilt milk. Back to Mommie she could go and live happily ever afterward. He was lucky he hadn't gotten more deeply involved. He should've known better, for chrissake. Lynn just wasn't his type.
Pulling strongly, he reached the end of the pool, pivoted around in the water in a racing turn and shoved off powerfully with his legs. He had plowed on several strokes before he realized there had been a woman sitting at the edge of the pool just where he turned. He had glimpsed her in the brief moment his head was out of the water and as he swam on the after-image of what he had seen stayed with him. But he couldn't believe he had really seen what he thought he had seen.
At the far end of the pool he turned more slowly to get a better look. There was a girl sitting there all right. An attractive dark-haired girl, dressed in a white something or other, with her legs pulled up so that her chin was resting on her knees. The white robe or whatever it was had fallen open at the bottom in such a way that even at that distance Steve could see the dark patch of pubic hairs between her olive-skinned thighs. That was what he thought he had seen. It hadn't been a mirage.
Feeling curiously light-headed and aware that his thick cock was swelling rapidly inside his slacks, Steve swam slowly back toward the girl. When his hand touched the side of the pool directly underneath the spot where she sat, he stopped and looked up. The glossy black triangle between her lusciously rounded thighs riveted his eyes. The faint line where her pussy lips joined was visible through the thick silky curls. He licked his lips nervously, unable to tear his gaze away from the lasciviously titillating sight.
"You're certainly a brave man," a warm contralto voice purred huskily down at him. "To go swimming in that gunk."
Breathing heavily from his swim and also from his mounting excitement, Steve looked up into a dazzling white smile and mischievously sparkling black eyes. His cop's brain mechanically noted the minute traces of hardness around the mouth which almost imperceptibly marred the madonna-like beauty of the girl above him. A high-class hooker, he thought. Or maybe a night-club performer who would never quite make the bigtime. Then she shifted her position slightly so that he caught a whiff of her musky animal scent. Who cares? he said to himself. This was his kind of woman, one he could understand. Not like Lynn.
He lay back in the water and grinned engagingly up at her. There was no doubt whatsoever in his mind that she was showing him her hot juicy little cunt on purpose and it couldn't have happened at a better time. "Couldn't sleep," he said, letting his rugged features frankly express his admiration for the charms she was so enticingly showing him. "Too damn hot."
"Me neither," the sultry brunette murmured. "I never can when I'm traveling alone. I hate traveling alone. I was gonna drive straight through to Balto but I was just too damn beat. And this fleabag was the only place that had a room."
"Yeah, it's not much," Steve agreed. He stared deliberately at her dark glossy pussy thatch, licked his lips suggestively and looked her straight in the eye. "I feel better now, though," he grinned. "Except I could use a little breakfast."
"I got something to eat," the raven-haired girl smiled back at him. "In my room. Why don't you come over for a little snack?"
"Thanks. Don't mind if I do." Without using the ladder Steve swung himself up out of the pool with one easy fluid movement and reached down a hand to pull his new acquaintance to her feet. He could feel the. flow of supple strength through her beautifully rounded body as she stood up beside him and once again a cloud of warm musky scent filled his nostrils. This time it seemed to come from the deep cleavage between the magnificent swelling mounds of her breasts. Her nipples were already hard with excited anticipation, he noted. They stood out like wild dark berries through the transparent cloth of her white dressing gown, throbbing visibly.
"We'll have to dry you off," she said, letting her dark glittering eyes rove admiringly along the lines of his massive shoulders and deep powerful chest until they came to the prominent bulge in the crotch of his slacks. "Do you always swim in your pants, man?"
"Spur of the minute," Steve grinned. "What's your name? Mine's Bill."
"Glad to meet you, Bill," Rita replied with another roguish glance at his crotch. The wet cloth of his slacks clearly molded the swelling head and hardening shaft of his thick cock. "I'm Dolores. I like these spur of the moment things. Let's go."
She turend and started directly for his cabin. For just a second, Steve hesitated. Then he quickly caught up with her and followed her around to the back of the cabin he shared with Lynn. The shades in his own room were still drawn and he figured the odds were about ten billion to one against the possibility that his prim little wife would be spying on him. It would be against her principles. No, she would still be lying in bed, probably sobbing and wondering why she had married such a monster.
Tough shit, he thought as he admired the supple sway of the alluringly rounded buttocks of the girl in front of him. She walked with the lithe ease which indicated plenty of training. She was too well built to be one of these skinny titless models they used these days, so he figured she might be a dancer. With lots of Latin blood and fire. It was gonna be a lucky day, after all. Mechanically, his eyes registered various details about her car which was parked next to his own. It was a black 1973 Buick sedan with Florida plates and a Hertz sticker on the windshield. The windshield itself had recently been washed but the number of squashed bugs on the grill and headlights said it had been driven long and hard. There was no luggage inside that he could see. Briefly, the cop in Steve's mind wondered why the girl who called herself Dolores had made the long expensive trip up from Florida in a rented car instead of flying. Then he reminded himself that he was off duty. In fact, he was on his honeymoon and it looked like at last he was actually gonna get laid.
"Here we are, Bill. Home sweet home," Rita said sarcastically, opening the door on a sordid little room identical to the one he had rented except that her musky scent floated headily in the air. There was one rather large closed suitcase on the floor, a red and white striped halter dress flung carelessly over a chair and the bed with its twisted tangled sheets.
"I sorta feel like breakfast in bed, big boy," the sultry brunette breathed, rimming her moist sensual lips suggestively with the pink tip of her tongue. "How about you?"
For an answer Steve pulled her hard against his brawny chest and clamped his mouth hungrily down on hers, feeling it open immediately in welcome to the eager thrust of his tongue. Her voluptuous body molded itself against his through the sheer fabric of her gown and he felt the taut nipples of her ripe melon-like breasts pressing against his ribs. Her hand worked its way between their locked pelvises and gave his lustily throbbing cock a caressing squeeze.
"Mmmmmmmmhhhhhhhhh," she murmured in throaty appreciation. After a long moment of exploring the inner recesses of each other's mouths she drew back without letting go of the rugged detective's hardening rod of flesh and looked up into his craggy face with hot black eyes.
"Oh, I gotta have a taste of that wonderful big hunk of cock right away, man!" she exclaimed in a voice she was sure would carry clearly through the partition wall. "You don't mind if I suck you first, do you, Bill?"
"Christ, no!" Steve grunted loudly in a voice hoarsened by lust. "Be my guest, baby!" Quickly he jerked open his belt and unzipped his fly, freeing his painfully imprisoned penis. It whipped upward snake-like in full erection, its flaring blood-red head twitching and bobbing feverishly at the end of its thick hard shaft in anticipation of what this brazen black-haired girl was going to do to it.
Christ, he hadn't had a blow job since he started going with Lynn, the burly detective mused resentfully. He'd always hoped that one day when he'd finally turned her onto sex he would see his wife's beautiful golden-blonde head pumping up and own over his loins as she eagerly sucked him into her honey-sweet mouth.
Jesus, how could he have been so dumb? Lynn sucking .. . That would be the day!
"Oooohhhhh, I can't wait to get at that gorgeous big cock! Take off those wet pants and lie down quick, man," Rita urged him breathlessly as she hurriedly slipped out of her dressing gown. She wasn't acting any more now. She figured that the way this big jock had come right along to the room with her and hadn't lowered his voice when he spoke proved that he didn't know you could hear through the wall. So that was cool. She'd done what Blitz asked and now it was time to enjoy. After she sucked this big guy's cock he was gonna eat her pussy, and that was something she'd been missing with Blitz lately. Get yourself a girlfriend, the bastard had said. Well, fuck him. For this morning at least she had Bill and the sight of his thick hard cock made her mouth water. The idea that his wife would by lying right on the other side of the wall listening really tickled her imagination, too.
What Rita didn't know was that Lynn was not just listening, she was watching! She had been lying in bed, staring dry-eyed at the ceiling and trying to adjust to the fact that she had made the biggest mistake of her life in marrying Steve Haddaway when she heard the door of the adjoining room open and the woman called Rita say,
"Here we are, Bill. Home sweet home." Naturally Lynn had thought it was some other member of the gang named Bill who had come to join Blitz Parker and his girl. She had immediately tiptoed back to the bathroom cubicle and positioned herself at the crack in the wall. At first all she could see was the empty bed, then she heard Rita say that disgusting thing about wanting a taste of Bill's penis and a man's gruff hoarse voice answering her.
Lynn didn't recognize the voice as Steve's. The whole idea of him being in the room with Rita was so unthinkable that she didn't even recognize her husband from the rear when he appeared in her line of sight, walking toward the bed. Then when he turned around and she saw his face, she was so thunderstruck she couldn't even gasp. The walls of the little cubicle seemed to reel dizzily around her and she sank down on the toilet seat to keep from falling.
"Okay, Dolores. It's all yours," Steve said with a complacent grin as he settled himself comfortably on the bed with his long muscular legs spread out wide to make room for this hot-blooded Latin cunt who just couldn't wait to suck him off. Christ, she was even better built than he'd thought, he realized, as his eyes roved hungrily down from her full firm breasts to the tiny hour-glass waist and the glossy black triangle of pubic curls nestling at the juncture of her smoothly rounded thighs.
When she climbed up on the bed and haunched down on all fours between his legs he caught another whiff of her strong musky scent that made the thick hard shaft of his bursting cock lurch yearningly in the air. Rita reached out and reverently circled its throbbing girth with her slim knowing fingers while sliding her other hand under the heavy sperm-bloated sac of his balls to gently massage them.
"Aaaaaahhhhh, big Bill really wants to be in little Ri- in little Dolores's mouth, eh, big Bill?" she cooed lovingly, almost forgetting that she had given a different name to this rugged handsome stranger. "I bet nobody ever swallow you all the way up like little Dolores is gonna," she added with a provocative little smile at Steve as she started to tantalizingly stroke the thick white foreskin up and down the rigidly swollen, twitching length of his straining cock.
"Nah. Nobody ever did," Steve granted impatiently. He tried to fight down the feathery flurries of erotic sensation the skillful minstrations of her slender fingers were causing to swirl around deep in his loins but it had just been too fucking long since anyone had touched him the way she was doing. Too fucking long!
"Jesus, baby!" he blurted out finally in a choked voice. "Start sucking unless you want me to shoot my goddamn load into the air!"
"Oh, we wouldn't want that now, would we, big Bill?" Rita purred softly as if speaking to the bulging lust-swollen head of his cock itself. Teasingly, she bent down and blew her warm breath on it, causing it to jerk violently in her hand. Then the moist pink tip of her tongue curled out and, cat-like, licked up the little drop of cum glistening in the tiny slit at the end.
"Mmmmmmmm. You taste good. Good and salty!" she exclaimed delightedly in a loud voice for the benefit of the woman she thought was listening on the other side of the partition wall. Then she bent her sleek black head down farther, farther . . .
"Yehhhhhhhhhh!" Steve breathed hoarsely as at last he felt her soft warm moist lips close like a soothing balm around the agonizingly twitching head of his tortured prick. Yehhhhhhhhh! he thought to himself as a flick of her agile tongue along the sensitive underside of his cock-head sent a blinding jolt of long overdue pleasure through every nerve-end in his body. This is more like it! Fuck that prissy little cunt of a wife I was dumb enough to marry! Unthinkingly, he gave an angry flex of his powerful loins, driving almost half of the thick hard shaft of his vengeful cock into the black-haired girl's hungrily sucking mouth. Rita swallowed it with the greatest of ease, then drew her tightly ovalled lips back up the log-like rod of lusting flesh until it popped out from between them with a loud slurping sound she was sure the woman in the next room could not fail to hear and understand. After that she plunged her head down and began to suck in earnest the way she loved to do.
Lynn was watching again. Yes, in spite of the waves of revulsion which boiled through her slim young body, causing it to shiver constantly as if she were ill with the ague, she leaned against the wall of the cubicle with her eye glued to the crack and watched the incredibly revolting disgusting animalistic act the man she had married just ten days earlier was performing with another woman a few feet away.
She had long since ceased wondering why this horrible thing was happening or where the man called Blitz Parker was. As far as she knew he might still be in some part of the room she couldn't see, watching Rita make ghastly oral love to Steve. If what she was seeing was possible, then anything was possible, her dazed mind told her. Anything at all!
The young blonde gasped in disbelief as she saw Rita wantonly plunge her mouth down along Steve's huge hard penis until only an inch of white still showed at the base. How the shameless woman could swallow so much of that disgusting thing without choking to death Lynn couldn't begin to understand but she knew that never in her whole life would she be able to blot from her memory the awful sight she was witnessing now. Her slender hands clenched and unclenched nervously and without knowing it she started to breath in short quick pants in time to the rhythmic pumping of Rita's lewdly stretched mouth.
Suddenly Steve groaned, a harsh guttural sound torn from deep in his brawny chest, and Lynn saw one of his powerful hands streak out and tangle itself in Rita's long black hair. At the same time he arched his hips up off the bed, driving the entire length of his enormous penis into the brunette's gulping throat. For an incredibly long minute he held her that way, then he sank slowly back down on the bed, lifting her head until the whole reddening shaft of his cock reappeared out of her mouth.
The betrayed young bride watched with a sort of spellbound horror the way the other girl's full ovalled lips were pulled out along her husband's wetly glistening, saliva-slick member when she raised her head, then were pushed back inward when she pumped her mouth down along it again until her nose was completely buried in the thick brown mat of his wiry pubic hairs. God, the depraved woman was actually revelling in her own debasement, Lynn realized as the tempo of gluttonous slurping sounds from the other room steadily accelerated.
Rita's whole sensually aroused body was covered with a sheen of sweat now as she joined Steve in his wild charge toward orgasm. Her large firm breasts jiggled crazily as she eagerly met the passionate up-thrusts of his lunging cock, and Lynn numbly realized that she was about to see her husband cum . . . Deep in another woman's throat.
A weird niggling sensation fluttered in the depths of her own loins, mixed with an unexpected feeling of loss. Through the crack in the wall came a heavy scent of musk and another sharper odor emitted by the two nakedly clashing bodies. Lynn breathed in these odors of raw sex deeply, unaware that her own slim naked young body was now also covered with a film of sweat. She was gasping for breath like a winded animal as she vicariously shared in her husband's climax.
"Uuuuuuuuunnnnnnnhhhhhhh! Keeeeeee-risssssst!"
Steve's strangled groan as his pent-up sperm rifled up through his over-charged cock and pelted deep into Rita's throat abruptly jerked Lynn out of her hypnotic trance. A cold sense of reality flooded back over her and she watched with intense disgust as the black-haired girl greedily gulped down the apparently endless stream of the detective's ejaculating sperm. At the end, the young blonde saw, it actually overflowed her mouth and dribbled in rivulets down her chin. Revolting!
"Brother! That was a great breakfast, Bill. There must have been a gallon of it. I feel really, stuffed," Rita chuckled gratefully when Steve's limp cock had finally slipped out of her mouth. Tenderly, she bent down and kissed it, licking the distended little slit at the end to make double sure none of the precious sperm had escaped her.
"Yeah, it was nice, Dolores," Steve agreed contentedly. "But it sure worked me up a big appetite."
"Oh, take it easy, big boy, there's no hurry," Rita giggled. "Rest for a minute."
"No shit, baby," Steve insisted slyly. "I'm starving to death."
He grasped the exotic black-haired girl by her thighs and pulled her toward him until his head was poised above the lustrous dark vee of pubic hairs covering her juicy heady-smelling cunt. With his two thumbs he pulled her quivering pussy lips apart and stared hungrily down at the moist pink valley that opened up to him, with its swollen little bud of a clitoris and the expectantly palpitating entrance of her vagina already freely flowing with pungent female secretions.
The powerfully built detective's tongue circled his lips nervously in anticipation of the succulent feast that awaited him . . . unaware that on the other side of the flimsy partition his young bride had finally turned away from the crack with a set stony expression on her delicately chiselled face.
Chapter Four
About eight hours later, at two o'clock in the afternoon, Lynn's expression was still set and stony but there was a trace of despair in the way the corners of her fresh young mouth turned down as she stared dejectedly at the telephone in her mother's elegantly furnished living room. Finally she leaned forward to consult the directory which was open on the desk beside the phone and wearily dialed another number.
"Barbizon Real Estate," a crisp female voice replied almost instantly.
"Hello. This is Lynn Haddaway of the Washington Star," Lynn said with what she hoped was equal crisp ness. "I'm trying to contact a Miss Rita Rodriquez, daughter of the famous Argentinian writer. I understand that she rented a house through your agency this morning and I would like to have her new address."
"Miss Rodriguez? Hold on a moment, please."
Lynn waited nervously as the receptionist or secretary or whatever she was presumably went off to make inquiries. None of what she had said was true, of course. She had never learned Rita's last name or what her cover story would be but several fruitless calls to other real estate agencies had taught her that it was pointless to ask for information about a woman whose last name she didn't even know. They just hung up on her.
"I'm sorry. No Miss Rodriguez has been in this morning," the crisp voice came back on the line.
"I see," Lynn said, moving smoothly into the routine spiel she had developed. "Well, she may be using a different name because her father wishes to avoid publicity. However, he has been kind enough to accord the Star an exclusive interview. This is what his daughter looks like." She went on to describe the vile creature she had seen in bed with her husband that morning, doing her best to keep the loathing out of her voice.
"I'm sorry. No one of that description has been in the office today." There was a definite undertone of suspicion in the crisp voice at this point. "Good-bye now."
Damn! Lynn stared angrily at the dead receiver in her hand and slowly replaced it on its cradle. It was hopeless. There were hundreds of real estate agencies listed in and around
Washington. It would take her a month to check them all, with no guarantee that she would ever find out where Rita had rented a house. Her story about being a reporter for the Star wasn't convincing. She had tried just saying she was a personal friend of Rita's but that didn't work either.
Double damn! All her silly childish dreams of unmasking the thieves and thwarting their evil schemes were going up in smoke. Moodily, she stared out the window to where her mother was kneeling, trowel in hand, beside the flower bed that bordered the lawn in front of her two-story redbrick house in the exclusive Georgetown district of Washington. As she watched, her mother rose with the lithe grace of a woman much younger than her forty-one years and crossed the yard to examine some rose bushes.
Helen Timberlane was a tall willowy woman with ashblonde hair and the same finely sculpted features as her daughter. She could have been quite prominent in the social whirl of the Capitol because of her distinguished lineage and considerable personal fortune but preferred to lead a a retiring life, appearing only at those events where her absence would have been considered an insult. Since her divorce five years earlier, she had many offers of marriage and politely but firmly refused them all.
Watching her move around the yard, as serene and pure as a nun, Lynn suddenly blushed furiously when the vile coarse things Steve had said about her the night before rushed back into her mind. She couldn't even imagine her mother kissing a man, much less making love, and Steve had had the nerve to say that what she needed was a ... good fuck. God, it was awful, that her husband's brain worked that way, but it was only to be expected. She had found out too late that he was really no different from the criminals he pursued. He was on the right side of the law but he lived in the same sordid vicious world they did. What she had seen that morning proved it.
Tears welled up in Lynn's clear blue eyes and she turned away from the window with a stifled sob in case her mother should glance around and see her crying. The image of her husband hungrily licking his lips with his head poised just above that hateful blackhaired girl's lewdly exposed genitals flashed into her mind for the nth time that day with appalling clarity. God, how could he have done such a thing, the distressed young bride wondered miserably. She might have been able to forgive him anything else but never THAT! THAT was the ultimate in unfaithfulness, the ultimate betrayal. To do THAT to another woman!
Suddenly her own clitoris tingled excitedly with the memory of how Steve's tongue had felt when he was licking her there while she slept. If only she had let him go on ... The thought abruptly redoubled the thousand little pinpricks of desire in her alerted loins but she frowned fiercely and clenched her shapely buttocks together to stifle the unwanted sensation. It did no good. Her hand was drawn as if by some relentless outside force toward her crotch and her slender fingers wormed their way up the leg of the white shorts she was wearing toward the quivering little jewel of delight hidden between her moistening pussy lips.
God! What am I doing! she thought as the monstrousness of her unclean desire suddenly struck her. Guiltily, she jumped up and began to pace nervously back and forth around the living room. To think of touching herself there in broad daylight right where her mother could look around and see what she was doing. Even while she was scolding herself, however, the thought of the cool spacious bathroom upstairs slipped into her distraught mind. She could lock the door and lie down on the big fluffy rug . . . Again the flower of desire bloomed like some obscene tropical flower between her legs.
No, dammit, I won't do it! Won't! Won't! Won't! she swore vehemently to herself. It was just that she had been subjected to too many vile unnatural experiences in the past few hours, having to watch that evil with Rita and listen to her animal screams when she climaxed. Again the frightening question entered the young blonde's mind . . . Was it natural for a woman to have such violent orgasms? It couldn't be. No, Rita was some kind of abnormal insatiable freak. A nymphomaniac obsessed with sex!
God, that morning after what she had done to Steve and what he had done to her, they made love again. Like two animals! And because she had no clothes she had been trapped in the next room, forced to listen to their disgusting grunts and groans and the sound of their bodies slapping together as they . . . fucked. It had gone on for what seemed like hours. She'd thought they would never finish.
Then when Steve finally came back to the cabin, he hadn't even look ashamed. Of course, he hadn't known that she knew. Still, you'd think he would feel guilty. Instead he looked happier than he had during the whole honeymoon and when she'd ordered him to take her home to her mother, he'd just laughed. Laughed and not even gotten out of the car to help her with her suitcase when they arrived. Laughed and driven away without even saying good-bye.
Of course, her mother had been perfect as usual, behaving as if it was perfectly normal for her daughter to return from her honeymoon and move back into her old room. No prying questions, no I-told-you-so's. They had just taken up their old life as if Steve Haddaway had never entered it. Lynn knew that her mother had never approved of Steve, although she had never said a thing against him and had leaned over backwards to be gracious to him.
So now what am I going to do? Lynn stopped short in the middle of the living room and glared at the telephone. The idea of ever speaking to Steve again was more than she could bear but she had to face up to the fact that her efforts to trace Rita and Blitz and the others were doomed to failure. Therefore it was her duty as a citizen to tell the police what she knew. Of course, that didn't mean she had to tell Steve . . . But would anyone else believe her? They would learn that her husband was a detective lieutenant-on the Force and want to know why she hadn't told him. And why she had waited till then. And so on.
God, it was all so embarrassing! With sudden resolve Lynn strode "briskly to the telephone and dialed her husband's work number. It was better to get it over with. Then she would never hafe to have anything more to do with him.
"Whadda you want?" Ms deep voice growled at her when she finally got through to his extension.
"Steve, I've got to tell you something important. It has nothing to do with us, so please listen." Quickly, she went on to recount all she had heard the night before, except the sex parts, and her unsuccessful efforts to locate the girl Rita that morning.
"What kind of dumb-ass story is that?" Steve grunted irritably when she had finished. "You've been reading too many dime novels, baby. Now get off my back and stay off. I've got work to do."
"You don't believe me?"
"No! I think you're just trying to get attention. Like the spoiled brat you are!"
"I can describe - " Lynn began but the line was already dead. Steve had slammed down the receiver at the other end. Slowly, on the verge of tears, the young blonde hung up and stared numbly out the window at the green sunlit lawn. The bastard! All she had to do was call back and say, You'd better believe me, Bill. That would prove she had been able to hear through the wall. And she could describe exactly what he had done with Rita that morning, too. But why should she? What did she care whether somebody's stupid old gold bullion was stolen or not? She hoped the thieves got away with it. It would teach her thick-headed husband a lesson.
"Any luck, dear?"
Lynn started nervously as her mother's voice suddenly broke into her train of thought. Then she remembered she had said she would be using the phone a lot to track down a lead on a story she had.
"No, Mother. Not yet," she said to the slender woman standing in the doorway. Even in her gardening attire Mrs. Timberlane gave an impression of charming elegance. The rather long out-moded skirt could not conceal the graceful lines of her long slim legs which tapered into slender ankles or the feminine flowering of her hips. Her waist was as slim and her breasts as high and firm as Lynn's. For the first time the young blonde found herself looking at her mother as one woman looks at another and wondering what had gone wrong with her marriage.
Was her father really a brute like Steve? She just couldn't believe it. She saw him whenever he came to Washington and he was kind and gentle. He had never remarried either. Sometimes Lynn wistfully dreamed of her parents getting together again, but she was mature enough to realize that if they really didn't get along, it was better for them to stay apart.
"Cousin Louise has sent us one of those silly chain letters." Mrs. Timberlane said with a gay girlish laugh. "It says if we send off ten copies with a dollar in each one, we'll get back thousands of dollars within three weeks. But if we break the chain, something awful will happen to us." She gave another silvery laugh. "Louise is such a dear but I wish she wouldn't do these things to me. She knows how superstitious I am. Do you believe in it, Lynn?"
"Of course not, Mother," the young blonde answered firmly. "It's just a racket."
"Is it? Well, that won't stop me from worrying. We just have to put our name at the bottom of the list," Helen Timberlane pursued. "I could have them photocopied and it's only ten dollars. Why does Louise do these things to me?"
"Well, go ahead then," Lynn laughed. "It's a cheap price for your peace of mind. And who knows. It might even work."
"I think I shall, dear. Now don't forget to fix yourself a bite to eat." Mrs Timberlane turned and disappeared into what had been her husband's study before their divorce. Soon Lynn heard the slow cracking of typwriter keys awkwardly tapped by unskilled fingers and smiled fondly to herself. Sometimes her mother struck her as being a little childish, in spite of all her sophisticated poise. It was as if Helen Timberlane, born Rowland, had always led such a sheltered protected existence that she had never really grown up.
But so what? Lynn thought with a delicious little shiver of contentment. It was so nice to be home, safe and sound in this calm beautiful house, far away from the squalid cut-throat world where the Ritas and Blitzes and Steve Haddaways lived out their brutish existences. What a fool she had been to ever marry Steve. Like any silly school girl she had been romantically blinded by the danger and adventure in the life he led. He had seemed like so much more of a man to her than any of her boyfriends. Which wasn't true at all, of course. Any of them would have made her a better husband. Mason Hopewell, Alfred Anderson, Paul Grotton, Pat Carney .. . They were all from the same world she knew and would have understood her far better. Pat Carney!
Lynn gasped out loud as the inspiration suddenly struck her. Pat Carney's father owned one of the largest real estate agencies in Washington and Pat was working for him now. The solution to her problem was so simple and obvious but she would never have thought of it if Cousin Louise hadn't sent her mother that silly chain letter. In less than a minute the excited young girl had Pat on the end of the line.
"Why, Lynn!" drawled a surprised, pleasantly resonant voice. "I thought you were off living the perfect love in the mountains with the Great Detective."
"I just got back," Lynn said, ignoring Pat's sarcasm. He had always scoffed at her romance with Steve and she didn't want to get bogged down in any long explanations of what had happened right now. "Listen, Pat," she hurried on. "Can I ask you a very special favor?"
"Sure you can ask me a very special favor, Lynn darling," Pat mimicked her. "Can I ask you one?"
"Later," Lynn said. "Pat, you have connections in other agencies that you do favors for, and vice versa, don't you? I mean, people you call up when a client comes in and you don't have exactly what he wants, so you call a friend and share commissions and things like that?" . "Is that a promise?"
"What?" Lynn asked, frowning exasperatedly at the receiver.
"That I can ask you a very special favor later?"
"Oh . . . Yes!" the young blonde answered after a moment's hesitation. After all, why not? she asked herself. She was a free woman again.
"You mean the Romance of the Century is already over?" the suave voice questioned persistently.
"Pat, I'll tell you all about it later," Lynn said impatiently. Please answer my question. It's urgent."
"Okay. Yeah, we have contacts with quite a few other agencies, honey. Why do you want to know?"
Briefly, Lynn went through her story about Rita Rodriguez, daughter of the famous South American author who was looking for an isolated country house, might be using a false name and so forth. She gave a thorough description of Rita and to explain her own interest said that she wanted to do a feature article on the father.
"I see," Pat drawled skeptically when she had finished. "Well, like I say we have contacts with quite a few other agencies, but there must be a couple of billion others in the Washington area that we don't have contacts with. Your chances are pretty slim."
"Yes, but your contacts must have other contacts that you don't have," Lynn pointed out. "So if you called all yours and they called all theirs and so on, like a chain letter, it wouldn't take long to cover an awful lot of agencies, would it?"
"No, I guess it wouldn't." Pat sounded intrigued. "Honey, that's a real smart idea. N6w tell me why you really want to find this Rita Rodriguez. I don't believe a word of that story you fed me."
"But it's true!" Lynn insisted vehemently.
"It can't be true," Pat said flatly. "If she's looking for the kind of luxuriously furnished house you described, she would have to establish her real identity, give solid references and have a hefty bank account."
"Listen, Pat," Lynn said slowly, making her voice as soft and seductive as possible. "You really want that very special favor, don't you?"
"You know damn well I do!" her old boyfriend snapped back irritably. "I tried hard enough to get it before, didn't I?"
In spite of herself, Lynn smiled. He certainly had tried. In the backs of cars, in doorways, on dark front porches . .. Anywhere was good enough for old Pat Carney. "Well, Pat," she said, putting every ounce of sincerity she could possibly muster into her voice. "I swear if you do this favor for me, I'll do whatever you want."
Pat gave a low whistle and said, "Jesus, I believe you . . . Okay, honey, I'll try, but it may take some time. What's your new phone number?"
"Call me at my mother's" Lynn said.
"At your mother's!" Pat exclaimed, and Lynn could visualize his handsome Irish face splitting in a delighted grin as his suspicions about the end of the Great Romance with Steve were confirmed. "Okay, honey," he said briskly. "Will do. Bye now."
"Good-bye, Pat." Lynn hung up with a dreamy expression on her delicately molded face. A lurid thrill like a shiver spread tiny goose bumps over her golden-tan skin when she thought of her promise to give herself to Pat. She had taken her first step as a liberated woman. Twenty-four hours earlier she would never have thought of letting anyone but Steve touch her. And there wasn't only just Pat, she reminded herself with a little smile. There were others, lots of others. After a moment she determinedly shook her head to clear her mind of such thoughts and settled down to wait for the call that was going to change the course of her life.
Hammerhead looked exactly like his name. He was a short stocky man with a long immensely powerful torso and the stunted bow legs of a dwarf. His close-cropped bullet-shaped head was framed by two enormous cauliflower ears. The brows over his small sharp brown eyes bulged with accumulated layers of scar tissue and his nose had been squashed flat so many times it was impossible to imagine what it had originally looked like. Under the ruined nose was a thin slit of a mouth and a granite-like chin. In other words, Hammerhead looked like he had been used to demolish solid stone walls practically since the day he was born.
The truth was most of this damage had been inflicted before he reached the age of nineteen. Even as a small boy he had objected strongly to the remarks people were always making about liis appearance, particularly his stumpy legs, and as he was brought up in a tough Polish mining town in Pennsylvania where the average kid his age outweighed him by twenty pounds and stood a head taller than he did, his appearance kept getting worse and worse. Then, when he was about nineteen, he discovered what a gun was. After that he didn't have to fight with his hands any more.
There was a gun hanging under his left armpit now, an ugly-looking fourteen-shot Browning automatic. He was watching Rita try to dance to a Mozart concerto on the far side of the vast living room in the house she had rented that afternoon. Hammerhead didn't know the music was by Mozart, but he did know it wasn't music to dance to, at least not for Rita. Still, he liked watching the big-titted brunette hop around in her bare feet on the thick beautifully woven Persian rug that covered most of the surface of the huge room. Hammerhead didn't know the rug was Persian, he never heard of Persia either, but he liked watching Rita's big boobs pop out of her halter dress every time she jumped up in the air. He really liked Rita.
What he didn't like was the way Blitz Parker kept staring at him. Blitz was sitting on the far side of the room near where Rita was bouncing around, but instead of watching her, he kept staring at Hammerhead. There was an expression on his face that reminded Hammerhead of the way people used to look at him before he learned how to handle a gun. He hadn't seen that expression on the face of anyone who knew who he was for about fifteen years and it made the fingers of his right hand tingle. The tingling made him nervous, so he took another hefty swig of the drink he held in his left hand and watched the bad look on Parker's face get a little worse.
"I told you to lay off the booze, Hammerhead!"
Blitz's hard voice cracked like a whip through the delicate rising and falling chords of the music and Rita suddenly stopped trying to dance to it. She turned and looked at Hammerhead. Hammerhead looked back at Blitz and tossed down the rest of his drink to stop the tingling that had started in his right hand again. He knew he was a little drunk but not too drunk to function okay if he had to. Certainly not too drunk to kill Blitz Parker if the sonuvabitch didn't stop boning him. He figured it would take about half a second.
Hammerhead squinted at his empty glass, got up and went to the table where the booze was. This involved turning his back to Blitz but his sense of hearing was so acute that, even with the music blasting out of the hi-fi set, he heard the blond man get out of his chair and start toward him across the thick rug at a dead run. When Blitz was about ten feet away from him, Hammerhead turned around and said, "Fuck off, Pretty Boy."
His Browning was in his large rock-like hand, pointing unwaveringly at Blitz's belly button. There was no change in the expression on his ugly beat-up face but his sharp little brown eyes sparkled happily.
Blitz stopped and looked incredulously at the big gun in Hammerhead's hand. He hadn't seen the little runt make any movement to draw it. He licked His thin lips nervously and said, "Heinz don't want no heavy drinking on this job."
"Heinz ain't here," Hammerhead said. With his left hand he splashed his glass full of straight whisky. "I said, fuck off," he repeated. The Browning flicked in a blur of speed, roared once, then returned to its former position, aimed straight at Blitz's bellybutton.
"Go take a look at gran'pa's picture, Pretty Boy," the dwarf-like little man said, raising his glass.
Blitz turned and walked away without really understanding what Hammerhead had said. His ears were still ringing from the explosion and the smell of cordite in his nostrils was like the smell of death. The bullet had passed so close to his head he figured it was just pure luck he was still alive. It wasn't until he reached the other side of the room and happened to look up at the wall where there was an ornately framed picture of a dignified-looking old gentleman sitting in an arm chair that he understood what the runty gunman had meant. The old gent now had a third eye, right between the other two.
"Jesus," Blitz muttered under his breath with a glance at Rita. He had heard stories of what Hammerhead could do with a gun but had always thought they were exaggerated. Obviously they weren't. For the second time that day beads of cold sweat broke out on his forehead. He knew he was going to have to kill the ugly little bastard as soon as he was no longer needed. Or get killed himself.
"Turn off that fucking music!" Hammerhead barked suddenly. He was still standing by the table but had put down his glass and was listening intently with his head cocked toward the window. Blitz switched off the stereo and in the sudden silence he just barely heard the sound of a car moving in low gear in the distance.
"That fucking car went up the road past the gate, turned around and now it's slowing down," Hammerhead said.
Blitz believed him, even though it seemed impossible that anybody could have heard a car on the road with the music turned up that high. The gateway entrance to Twin Oaks, which was the name of the place Rita had rented, was over two hundred yards away and there were a lot of trees between it and the house. A deadly chill spread out from the pit of the blond gangster's stomach as he realized that while Hammerhead was sitting-there swigging his whisky, he must have been aware of every car that passed up and down the narrow two-lane road that wound through the wooded countryside around Twin Oaks. Jesus, the ugly little bastard must have a sixth sense or something. Like an animal. He just wasn't human.
While they listened, the car engine stopped.
"Douse the lights!" Hammerhead snapped. He was already half way to the front hall, scurrying along on his short bow legs like a lizard.
"You want me to come with you?" Blitz asked in a low voice after he had cut the lights.
"Nah!" Hammerhead spat out contemptuously. He waited a moment until his eyes had adjusted to the darkness, then slipped out the front door noiselessly like some evil hobgoblin of the night.
"Could be just a couple of kids parking," Rita whispered uneasily, slipping her hand under Blitz's arm.
"It ain't likely," the blond man grated tensely. In his mind's eye he went over the terrain which he and Hammerhead had thoroughly reconnoitered late that afternoon. There was a high stone wall with spiked glass on top of it running all the way around the Twin Oaks property. He visualized the stretch that ran along the road. As far as he could remember there was nothing on the other side of the road but thick woods. No clearings or places to turn in and park. Shit, if somebody had stopped near Twin Oaks, it could only mean that they were interested in Twin Oaks. Why?
"You're sure that sonuvabitch in the motel couldn't have overheard what I said last night?" he asked, scowling at Rita.
"He sure didn't act like a guy who knew his wife could hear what he was doing," the darkhaired girl chuckled.
"Maybe he just didn't give a shit," Blitz objected.
"Baby, trust a woman's intuition," Rita said. "Anyway, how could anybody have found this place. I know goddamn well nobody followed me."
"Yeah," Blitz muttered. He knew this was true because he had followed her himself without telling her. She had played it smart. "I still don't see why that guy's wife didn't go around and beat the door down when she heard what was going on."
"I tell you, Blitz, you just don't understand how a woman's mind works," Rita chuckled again. "I can think of about fifty-good reasons."
"Yeah, shit," Blitz growled. They had been over that, too, but he still wasn't satisfied.
There wasn't any moon that night but the glow from the stars was pretty bright, so Hammerhead moved cautiously. He stayed away from the gravel drive and in the shadow of the big trees that dotted the lawn until he reached the stone wall about fifty feet to the left of the gate. The gate was locked, he knew. Blitz had the key in his pocket but that didn't mean there weren't other keys floating around. Any asshole with the right tools could pick the lock in about two seconds, anyhow. So he cocked his gnome-like head in the direction of the gate and listened.
Somebody was walking toward him on the road.
Hammerhead remembered a tree with a limb overhanging the wall that he had spotted that afternoon. Without a sound he scurried along the lawn until he found the tree and swung himself up into the lower branches with the ease of a circus acrobat. Then he climbed out along the overhanging limb until he could see down onto the road. To his right, about a hundred yards away, was the dark shape of a parked car. To his left, coming toward him, was a girl. Her long blonde hair shimmered in the starlight.
Hammerhead waited until she had passed by him, then swung himself out over the wall and dropped the ten feet to the road as lightly as a cat. The girl heard him and looked back. She gave a gasp of horror and began to run toward the car. She ran fast but her dwarfish pursuer overtook her before she had gone twenty yards. He stopped her by reaching out, grabbing a fistful of her flying blonde hair and yanking. The girl gave a sharp cry of pain and twisted around. She took one look at the hideous gargoyle face that leered up at her and fainted dead away.
Grinning contentedly, Hammerhead threw the girl over his shoulder like a sack of potatoes and trotted to her car. The keys were in the ignition. He propped the girl up in the passenger seat, drove back to the gate and blasted the horn. He just hoped that asshole Parker would have the brains to figure out what had happened and come down to open the gate. Picking locks wasn't Hammerhead's specialty. He usually just shot them off but that might look funny in this situation.
He leaned on the horn again, then stuck his out-sized hand inside the dark-colored blouse the unconscious blonde was wearing and pinched the nipple of her left tit through her bra. Nothing happened. He pinched harder. Still nothing. Hammerhead pulled her head back by her hair and examined her face by the dim light of the stars. She was a good-looking little piece, he decided, and had a nice little pair of knockers. He was glad she had come along.
He gave another long blast on the horn, then pulled the girl's skirt up and ripped off her panties. He pushed her legs roughly apart with one big hand and stuck his forefinger between her fuzzy pussy lips into her moist warm cunt. After flipping her little clit a couple of times he pulled out his finger and smelled it. Then he sucked it. She was nice and tasty, too, he decided. She wasn't any Rita but she was better than nothing. She would help pass the time and maybe he could use her to get a shot at Rita.
After a while he finally heard the door of the house open and Rita come walking down the gravel drive. He could tell it was Rita by the sound of the way she moved. It figured anyway. Chickenshit Parker was the kind of prick who would send his skirt to check things out instead of coming himself. He didn't like Parker and it was too fucking bad Heinz needed him to fly the goddamn plane. Otherwise he could burn him now and have some fun with Rita right away.
The idea that the sexy brunette was walking down the drive toward him, probably scared shitless but still swinging her beautiful ass the way she did, excited the runty little man. He stuck his finger back into the blonde's cunt, wormed it up her tight little vagina and began to fingerfuck her. The girl moaned.
"It's me! Open the fucking gate!" Hammerhead yelled when Rita finally appeared. After he had driven through he stopped and waited for her to lock up. When she came around to the passenger side of the car, he grinned his stubby-toothed grin and said, "Look what I caught."
Rita looked at the bloodless face of the unconscious blonde girl, then down at her lewdly splayed legs and the faintly shimmering golden vee of her naked crotch.
"Jesus Christ," she breathed softly. "Is she dead?"
"Nah," Hammerhead grunted. He grinned at Rita, pulled the blonde's pussy lips apart and started to fingerfuck her again. This time she wasn't quite so tight and dry. His finger made a squelching noise as he pumped it in and out. After a while the girl moaned and tried to twist away.
"See?" Hammerhead said happily. "She ain't dead. Yet."
Chapter Five
"I don't like it," Blitz Parker growled. He stopped pacing up and down the spacious living room of Twin Oaks and stared at the couch where Hammerhead was viciously pinching and mauling the milk-white mounds of the young blonde's breasts. She was naked. Hammerhead had ripped off all her clothes as soon as he got her in the house. She wouldn't be needing them anymore, he said.
Blitz thought she was bad news. Even so, his cock throbbed enviously in his pants as he took in the fragile beauty of her face, the clean lines of her long slim legs and the golden vee glowing softly between her thighs. She had class. She reminded him of the broads he used to fuck when he was still an officer in the Air Force.
"For chrissake, get away from her!" he snarled irritably at the runty gunman. "She'll just pass out again if she comes to and sees you."
"Fuck you, Pretty Boy," Hammerhead said placidly. "Mind your own fucking business."
"You shouldn't have brought her here," Blitz scowled. "Somebody must know where she went."
"So?" Hammerhead shrugged. "That's what we got to find out, ain't it, Pretty Boy? We find out who sent her, then we take care of him. What's the sweat?"
"I wish to christ Heinz would call," Blitz muttered. "It don't make sense, this cunt snooping around here like that."
Rita came in from the kitchen with some ice wrapped up in a dish towel. "Quit pinching her goddamn titties and put this on her head," she said.
"You put it on," Hammerhead grunted. He got up from the couch and headed for the table where the booze was.
Rita slapped the make-shift ice pack on the blonde's forehead, looking contemptuously down at her slim girlish figure. She couldn't understand what Blitz was beefing about. He must be losing his nerve. Hammerhead was right. It wouldn't take much to make this silly little cunt squeal like a pig. She could tell that just by looking at her.
After a few moments Lynn's eyes fluttered and through her long lashes she caught a glimpse of Rita's hateful face just above her. For a minute her mind was a total blank, then she remembered the brutal gargoyle face of the dwarf-like man who had dropped out of nowhere like an evil spirit and caught her. Caught! God, she had been caught by this gang of vicious criminals. A convulsive shudder wracked her slim young body and she quickly squinched her eyes shut as if somehow she could blank out the horror of what had happened to her.
"She's awake," Rita said. "She's faking it now." She glanced over at Blitz, noticed the familiar sadistic expression on his face and the bulge in the crotch of his pants. "Jesus Christ, you horny bastard," she jeered scornfully. "It doesn't take much to make you hot, does it?"
"Shuddup," Blitz snapped. He took a towel from Rita and dumped the ice cubes on Lynn's naked belly. In spite of herself the young girl gasped and jerked up to a sitting position. It was only then that she realized she was strip stark naked. Instinctively, she tried to cover her breasts with her arms, gazing fearfully up at Blitz Parker.
"Whaddaya have to go dump ice on her for?" another male voice growled, and Lynn saw the grotesquely deformed little creature who had caught her walking toward them. God, he looked like something out of a nightmare. He was holding a full glass in one hand and a big gun in the other. The gun was pointed at Blitz. "Lay off the little cunt," he warned in a voice that was toneless but somehow full of menace. "She's mine."
Blitz had been thinking the situation over. He had decided it would be better to get shot by Hammerhead than louse up the operation. A nice clean bullet between the eyes was a helluva lot better way to die than what he could expect from Heinz if the little Kraut ever found out he had fucked up. So he decided to call Hammerhead's bluff.
"Put away that goddamn heater," he snarled at the runty gunman. "You know what Heinz will do to you if you burn me?"
"I ain't afraid of Heinz, Pretty Boy," Hammerhead said, but the gun in his rock-like hand wavered slightly.
Blitz saw it and knew he had won. "Then you're an asshole," he sneered. "I got to ask this broad some questions. You can screw her ears off afterwards."
"Thanks, buddy," Hammerhead grunted. He tightened his finger on the trigger, watching Blitz turn white, then grinned his stubby yellow-toothed grin and dropped the Browning back into its holster. "Go ahead," he said.
Blitz picked Lynn's driving license up from the table where he had dumped the contents of her purse. "Your name Lynn Timberlane?" he asked.
Lynn nodded mutely. She hadn't had time to change her license since she married Steve. Her mind was working desperately as she tried to figure out a plausible story to tell these cold-blooded hoodlums but it looked hopeless. She didn't even know whether they had seen her leave the motel that morning or not.
"What the fuck were you snooping around here for?" Blitz shot at the frightened girl.
"I - I got lost..." Lynn stammered feebly. "I wanted to ask directions."
"Come off it!" Blitz snapped. He looked at Hammerhead. "Her car was parked a long way from the gate, right?"
The gnome-like gunman nodded. He sipped his whiskey and grinned at Lynn. "Tell the man the truth, kiddo," he leered. "You and me's gonna have a lot'a fun. I ain't so pretty but when you get a taste of my big ol' cock, you'll forget the rest."
"Who sent you out here?" Blitz barked.
"No-nobody," Lynn faltered. Suddenly she realized that Pat Carney was her only hope. He knew where she had gone and was going to phone her in the morning. He would find out that she was missing... If only she could stay alive long enough? The frightened young girl shuddered uncontrollably again when she looked at the hideous dwarf-like man leering down at her and realized what staying alive would involve. God, what a fool she had been to come out here! After Pat had found out which house Rita had rented, she had just wanted to see what it was like ... To get some local color for the story she was going to write.
"Come on, baby," Blitz growled nastily. "Give!"
"Yeah, look at what yer missin'!" Hammerhead chuckled. Without warning he dropped his pants to the floor where they puddled around his stunted legs. His thick hose-like penis and heavy pendulous balls hung down between his short bandy thighs almost to his knees. With an expression of evil glee on his battered face he grabbed his cock and pulled the thick loose foreskin back off the gleaming purplish head, brandishing it triumphantly in Lynn's direction.
"Jesus Christ," Rita muttered, staring in fascinated awe at the deformed little man's enormous genitals.
"Surprised, huh, kid?" Hammerhead grinned smugly at the black-haired girl. "It just goes to show ya, don't it? Ya can't tell what's in the package by the wrapping. You want this stuffed down your throat?" he barked suddenly at Lynn.
"N-no . .. !" the terrified blonde gasped, unable to take her eyes off the horrible little creature's rapidly hardening penis. God, she had never thought a human could have one so big. It looked like it belonged on a horse.
"I'm a free-lance reporter," she babbled, suddenly inspired by fear. "I came out here to interview Senor Silvero." Thank God Pat had filled her in on the details of the story Rita had told at the Carter and Dixon Realtors Agency where he had finally traced her through one of his contacts. She knew this imaginary Senor Silvero was supposed to be a very wealthy and influential business man from Costa Rica.
"You came for an interview at nine o'clock at night? Without telephoning first?" Blitz sneered. His piercing yellowish-brown eyes narrowed and his voice was grim. "Who told you Senor Silvero had rented this house?"
"Nobody!" Lynn gasped, her mind twisting like a rat in a maze to find a convincing way out of her predicament. "I - I work at Carter and Dixon's. It's such a ... such an expensive place, I thought it must be somebody important. I - I'm just starting out as a reporter and-" ,
"You see her at the agency?" Blitz asked Rita. She shook her head. "Shit," he said.
"I work in the file room," Lynn explained in a quavering voice. "I didn't telephone Senor Silvero first because I was afraid he might refuse. I thought if I just came ..." She looked up beseechingly at the blond gangster but his tawny eyes were as cold and hard as agates.
"I don't believe a fucking word you say," he grated.
"Neither do I," Rita said. Her hot black eyes raked Lynn's svelte naked young body contemptuously and the helpless blonde could sense hatred flowing out of the other girl in waves. God, her only hope seemed to be the dwarf-like freak who was still grinning down at her, obscenely stroking the foreskin up and down on his enormous penis. He had the only gun she had seen. Was there a chance, she wondered, that he would protect her? If she pretended to like him? Her heart sank with dismay. She could never do it. He was just too repulsive.
"If you came out here to see Senor Silvero, why didn't you say so in the first place?" Blitz lashed at her. "Why didn't you park at the gate?"
"I - I didn't want to block the gate," Lynn flatered. "I parked the first place I could pull off the road. And I guess I was just scared after . . . after. . . Are you Senor Silvero?" she asked timidly.
"Yeah, sure." Blitz bared his teeth at her in a nasty smile. "Who did you tell where you were going?"
"Nobody."
"You still live here?" he pursued, tapping her driving license with his finger.
Lynn nodded.
"Alone?"
"Yes," the befuddled girl blurted out. Then almost at once she realized her mistake. God, her mother! The room seemed to grow dark and when Blitz barked the inevitable question at her, his voice sounded far away. t "What's your phone number?"
To her amazement, Lynn heard herself quite calmly giving the number of some neighbors who were away on vacation. He made her repeat it, then went to the phone at the other end of the room. She was trembling violently.
"Wha' you need is a little drink, kiddo," Hammerhead said in a slurred voice. He sat down on the couch next to Lynn and held his glass of straight whiskey out to her. She shrank away from the touch of his hairy thigh against hers but he grabbed her around the waist and pulled her tight against his burly torso. There was nothing she could do.
"Thank you," she said. She took the glass and gulped down half of what was left in it. the fiery liquid scorched her throat and her head reeled dizzily for a minute. Then she felt a drowsy warmth fanning out through her body from the pit of her stomach. Maybe if she drank a lot, she mused, she could deaden her body and mind enough to do what that horribe little man wanted. Deliberately, she took another large gulp of the whiskey, glancing down at the thick twitching shaft of his penis which jutted rigidly out of his scruffy brown pubic hairs like a prehistoric bludgeon. It would mangle her forever, she knew, but if she could just pretend to enjoy it, she had a chance of living. She drank some more whiskey.
"Atta girl," Hammerhead mumbled. He cupped her right breast in his big hand and began to painfully tweak the pink little nipple. Then he took her left hand and placed it on his hot throbbing cock. Lynn flinched and her breath caught in her throat at the first searing touch of his huge lust-swollen member but she forced herself not to jerk her hand away. She even managed to stroke the foreskin up and down the rock-hard rod of pulsating flesh the way Steve had taught her. A weird thrill of excitement jolted through her. The whiskey must be working already, she thought. Maybe I can really do it! Maybe I can really let this horrid man make love to me!
"I bet ya never had nothing like that stuffed up your twat before, huh, kiddo?" Hammerhead boasted proudly.
"No..." Lynn breathed huskily with feigned admiration. "It's so big!"
"Enjoying yourself?" Blitz asked sarcastically. There had been no answer at the number Lynn had given him but that didn't mean much.
"Sure she's enjoying herself, Pretty Boy," Hammerhead slurred. "She just can't wait to get fucked, can ya, kiddo?"
"N-no," Lynn stammered, blushing furiously.
Shit, she's scared enough to do anything, Blitz mused as he watched the delicately featured young blonde forcing herself to play with the runty gunman's prick. He figured she was so scared she was probably telling the truth. For a while there he'd thought her voice sounded like the voice of the cunt in the motel that morning. But that was impossible. Even if she'd been there and heard everything he said, there was no fucking way in the world she could have found them. Yeah, she had to work in the real estate agency. He'd check that in the morning. Meanwhile there was a long night ahead.
"Whadda ya waiting for?" he asked Hammerhead derisively. "Want me to fuck 'er for ya?"
Hammerhead just grunted and dropped his gnome-like head to Lynn's left breast, nibbling at her nipple with his stubby yellow teeth. With a sense of total helplessness she let him pry her legs apart and probe between her pussy lips until he found the sore little button of her clitoris. She flinched.
"You'll never get into that dried up little cunt," Rita said scornfully.
"Wanna bet?" Hammerhead asked. He stood up and for a moment Lynn just lay there sprawled against the back of the couch, too exhausted by fear and shame to even close her lewdly splayed thighs. The whiskey she had gulped down was already blurring her mind. God, it's the end of the world, she thought when she saw the rapacious way all three of them were ogling her naked defenseless body. Lascivious greed gleamed in the eyes of the two men, and hatred in Rita's.
"Wanna bet?" Hammerhead repeated thickly. Suddenly he dropped to his knees between Lynn's legs, yanked her forward so that her buttocks were on the very edge of the couch and wrenched her thighs apart so that her sticky, sparsely haired pussy lips opened up, revealing the ragged pink slit of her cunt.
"Dry as a bone," Rita sneered.
"No problem!" Hammerhead snorted. His hard sweaty fingers dug cruelly into the soft flesh of Lynn's inner thighs as he forced them painfully still farther apart. His tongue circled his thin lips as he stared knowingly down at the exposed little bud of her clitoris.
"Oooohhhhh! Noooooo! Pleeeeease!" the helpless young girl wailed desperately when she realized what he was going to do to her. To be defiled in that way by this deformed brutish little man while the others watched was just too much for her. Even in her state of mortal shame, however, the image of Steve licking his lips as he got ready to suck Rita's cunt that morning flashed back into her dazed mind and along with that the memory of how his tongue had felt on her own clitoris in her half-sleep just before she woke up. Why fight it? a perverse little voice whispered somewhere inside her. You're probably going to die anyway. Why not just relax and enjoy it? She shivered violently.
Hammerhead pulled her fleshy pussy lips apart and his hot breath swirled into the moist open valley of her cunt. His ugly ghome's head remained poised there, just above her crotch, for what seemed like forever as he greedily studied her most intimate private parts, making lewd clacking noises with his tongue. Through the close-cropped hair on his head Lynn could see the film of greasy sweat on his scalp. Behind him Blitz and Rita were avidly waiting for her debasement to begin. Rita was stroking the enormous bulge in Blitz's pants. Then her hand fumbled with his zipper and she pulled out his long hard cock to fondle while they watched.
"Oooooohhhhhhh . . . !" the low moan of despair broke from deep in Lynn's throat when at last Hammerhead plunged down his battered face and began to flip and tease her cringing little clitoris with the slick wet tip of his tongue. She felt it slipping into her most secret nooks and crannies, scooping up droplets of her cuntal secretions, worming its way up into the palpitating hole of her vagina but always returning to the swelling little focal point of her desire. She felt her will to resist slipping away in a mist of alcohol and the accumulated frustrations of the day. At least pretend to enjoy it, she perverse little voice whispered. Suddenly her loins jerked spasmodically. She couldn't help it... couldn't stop the little coil of shameful pleasure that was beginning to unwind deep in her womb. She groaned and began to clench and unclench her buttocks to drive her feverishly aroused clitoris up into the cruel slit-like mouth sucking between her thighs. She was lost!
"Jesus, look at her go," Blitz muttered in a wondering voice while Rita continued to excitedly stroke his rockhard cock. He hadn't expected her to break so fast but she sure as hell wasn't faking it. Hot little bitch! She had reached down with both hands to pull Hammerhead's face harder against her pussy and was humping her cute little ass faster and faster. Her mouth slacked open, her eyes rolled back and he could see the shivers racing across her golden-tan skin. Christ, she was going to cum! Blitz felt a responsive churning of hot sperm in his balls. He really wanted this little cunt.
As Hammerhead skewered his tongue lizard-like far up into her dilating vagina, slurping out the heated secretions that were flowing freely now, then returned to suck her electrically tingling clitoris again, Lynn felt like there was a time bomb of pleasure ticking away deep in her loins. Faster and faster it ticked, about to explode into orgasm any second. She no longer cared that Blitz and Rita were watching. It only made her degradation more complete and in some weird masochistic way this just doubled her erotic excitement. She no longer cared about anything but cumming!
"You wanna fuck now, kiddo?"
"Oooooohhhhhhhhhhhh . . . !" Lynn writhed in anguished frustration on the couch when just at the last minute Hammerhead pulled away and grinned sadistically at her, his ugly mug glistening with her rich pungent juices. She had almost been there! With passion-glazed eyes she pleaded with him to finish her with his tongue but he just said,
"Well, do ya?" He stood up with his monstrous cock bobbing and weaving between his bowed banty legs, sagging under the weight of its own purplish blood-gorged head. A long thread of semen drooled down from the slit in the end and splattered obscenely on the golden vee between Lynn's out-splayed thighs. Its viscous wetness sent a lurid shiver of anticipation through the young blonde's frazzled nerve-ends. She licked her lips apprehensively and stared at the runty little man's giant organ as if hypnotized. Could she take it and survive?
"Lie down on the rug," Hammerhead grunted impatiently.
Lynn obeyed like someone in a trance. She slid off the couch and stretched out on the deep thick pile of the rug, spreading her slim legs invitingly open without being told. Hammerhead plopped down between them and wriggled his way up until the drooling bulbous head of his rigidly throbbing cock was prodding against her fearfully quivering pussy lips.
"Put it in," he ordered tersely.
Timidly Lynn reached down between their bodies and guided his monstrous rod of swollen flesh to the slick elastic opening of her vagina. Vaguely she was aware that something terrible was happening to her. In a perverse, half-crazy way she was beginning to want the vicious little killer's huge cock to spear up into the unexplored depths of her belly even if it tore her apart. What had happened to her? Breathlessly, she waited . . .
He lunged into her!
"Aaaaaaggggghhhhhhh!" she screamed as the huge bulbous tip of the dwarfish gunman's penis popped into the little-used opening of her vagina, stretching it so cruelly that she thought her pelvis would be split apart by the relentless bone-crushing pressure.
"Waaaaaiiiiiiittttttt!" the ruthlessly impaled young blonde pleaded pathetically, suddenly shocked back to her senses by the explosion of pain in her belly. Her lovely, delicately sculpted features were contorted in a grimace of agony but Hammerhead just grinned evilly down at her and flexed his scrawny hips, preparing for another savage thrust into her.
"Pleeeeeaaase," Lynn whimpered, even though she knew her anguished cries were just music in the sadistic little creature's ears. Nothing would stop him now in his brutal assault on her body unless someone dragged him off her. She twisted her head.to look at Blitz and saw the avid gleam in his tawny eyes. God, he's enjoying it, she realized. He's enjoying watching me suffer!
"Uuuuuuuuuunnnnnnnnnhhhhhhhhhhh!" Without warning Hammerhead plowed into the helpless girl, his mammoth cock pushing the soft moist flesh of the tightly clasping vagina ahead of it in rippling waves until his wildly swinging balls smacked loudly against the cheeks of her splayed buttocks and he was buried in her up to the hilt.
He's torn me apart! Lynn thought groggily as spasm after spasm of searing pain radiated out from her forever-stretched vaginal passage through every nerve and cell in her body. She felt like a flaming torch had been rammed up her cunt and she was on fire inside. Burning. . . burning . . . She was being consumed. She didn't even have the strength to moan any more. Dully, she stared up at the leering gargoyle face of the little gunman, waiting for him to finish his vicious debauch of her womanhood.
"How's it feel to be stuffed with a nice big cock, kiddo?" Hammerhead asked sarcastically. "Good, huh?"
Lynn turned her head away. She couldn't bear to look at his horrid face any more. As if from a great distance she saw Blitz's and Rita's legs. Rita was still stroking Blitz's long hard penis. She kneeled down on the rug and tried to pull the penis into her mouth. Blitz pushed her roughly away. They began to argue but Lynn didn't understand. She didn't care. Big tears welled up into her stricken blue eyes.
"Don't cry, kid," Hammerhead grinned down at the miserable girl. "You'll get to love it." He gave his huge rod a mighty throb deep up in her belly and the grin on his thin slit mouth broadened when he felt her body grow tense with fear. This was the moment he liked best . . . when the dumb cunts were still scared to death of his big cock and thought they'd die when he fucked 'em. Later, when they started to like it ... started to beg for it... he always felt sort'a let down.
"Aw, come on, Blitz. What'sa matter?" Rita whined when the blond hood shoved her roughly away from his cock. "I wanna suck it."
"I want her to suck it," Blitz growled, nodding at Lynn. "Turn her over, Hammerhead. We'll fuck her at both ends."
"No dice," the runty killer grunted. "But when I'm finished I'll trade her to ya for Rita."
"It's a deal."
"What!" Rita exclaimed. She jumped to her feet with her hot black eyes flashing. "I wouldn't let that little runtiouch me with a ten foot pole."
"No . . . ?" Blitz said tonelessly. He stepped over and cuffed her on the side of the head so hard that she was driven to her knees, half-stunned. Then he poured himself a drink and sat down on the couch to watch the action on the floor.
Hammerhead began to slowly rotate his pelvis against Lynn's, mashing down hard on the moist swollen little button of her clitoris without drawing his cock out of her cunt. Gradually he felt the tight elastic passage loosen up and began to saw in and out of it with short hard strokes at first, then longer smoother thrusts that brought his log-like rod almost all the way out of her rapidly moistening vagina. He saw her eyelids flicker and felt a tremor pass through her pinioned body. She was fighting it, he knew, but it wouldn't be long now. Without breaking the tempo of his fucking he reached down and pinched her left tit hard between his thumb and forefinger.
"Oooouuuuuch!" Lynn gasped as a weird flash of pleasure-pain shot through her body. Her head jerked around and she stared uncomprehendingly up at the gargoyle face above her. Hammerhead pinched her tit again.
"Hump your ass!" he snarled.
Jerkily at first, then more and more fluidly, Lynn began to arch her hips up off the rug to meet his down-strokes and soon their two sweating bodies were making the lewd slapping noises that she had heard through the motel wall that morning when Steve was fucking Rita.
God, had it only been that morning? It seemed like years. . . and here she was, a prisoner in this house . . . actually fucking this obscene little gangster. Yes! she exulted suddenly as never-before-felt erotic currents began to swirl through her aroused loins. She was fucking him, awful as he was, and enjoying it! She closed her eyes to shut out his ugly mug and concentrated on the wonderful feeling of his huge cock pistoning into the warm moist depths of her deliciously flowering cunt. A deep erotic flush spread across the surface of her skin and she felt her nipples hardening to the bursting point. It was the first time! The first time in her life . . .
Still on her knees with her ears ringing from the blow Blitz had struck her, Rita watched the skinny blonde bitch slowly coming to life under the pile-driving thrusts of Hammerhead's crazy cock. Christ, the ugly little stud was really hung, she mused. She'd never seen a prick that big before. It was at least two inches longer and a lot thicker than Blitz's. Resentfully, she looked over at the couch where her boyfriend was sitting with a drink in one hand and his ramrod stiff cock in the other. The bastard! So he wanted to trade her for that scrawny blonde cunt, did he? Well, she might just go along with the deal, after all.
She hadn't forgotten how he'd almost shit in his drawers when Hammerhead fired the shot past him. He'd turned pale as a ghost. Something told her that when the showdown between the two of them came, the ugly little punk might come out on top. It was too bad he was such a beat-up runt but Jesus, what a cock. Just watching it slide in and out of the blonde bitch's pussy gave her goose bumps all over. She cbuld feel her own cunt getting all wet and loose. After a minute she hiked up her skirt and began to pump two fingers in and out of her vagina while she twiddled her clit with her thumb.
Hammerhead looked over and grinned when he saw what she was doing. "Save it for Big Daddy, baby," he panted hoarsely. "I'll be with ya in a minute." He could feel the vibrant tremors racing through the body of the girl under him and knew she didn't have far to go. Without breaking his rhythm he reached down under her straining buttocks and jabbed his stiffened middle finger up her ass as far as it would go.
"Naaaaaggggghhhhhhh!" Lynn screeched as this cruel new pain jolted through her system. It was as if Hammerhead had suddenly thrown a switch in her body, blacking out all the luminous erotic joy that had been flowing blissfully through it just a second before. Then, miraculously, as he continued to pound into her cunt with his huge rock-hard penis and pump his finger into her rectum, the pain vanished. The radiant flux of sensuous delight tingling through her nerve-ends returned with doubled intensity.
She began to screw her asshole down on the skewering fingei with increasing abandon, driving it deep up into the warm brown depths of her bowels, masochistically revelling in this double impalement of her loins. The tendons in her slender neck stood out taut and vibrant as she writhed feverishly under the dwarfish gunman who was bringing her to the first real climax of her life.
Grinning cruelly, Hammerhead accelerated the tempo of his cock-thrusts deep into her wetly sucking cunt. He knew she was ready to cum. Her body shuddered and thrashed uncontrollably under him, her blonde head flailed from side to side, her legs flung out wildly and hooked themselves around his back . . . She was completely gone, he had her now, but that didn't turn him on half as much as seeing Rita frenziedly fingerfucking herself on the floor a few feet away.
"Oooooooohhhhhhhhhhhhh . . . !" Lynn's lithe slim body suddenly convulsed and a low moan of servile acceptance broke from deep in her throat. The frantic up-thrust of her hips accelerated insanely, lifting them both off the floor, then her writhing pussy jerked downwards, milking Hammerhead's monstrous rod of flesh to the very tip before greedily swallowing it all up again in the smooth velvety sheath of her vagina.
"Goddddddddd!" she screamed deliriously. "I'm cuuummmmmmmmmmiiiiiinnnnnnggggg! Cuuuummmmmmm!" A dazzling light of unbearable brilliance seemed to burst in her brain, flooding her body with rapturous ecstasy' as her hot frothing cum juices gushed forth from the dilated opening of her vagina, foaming around Hammerhead's ever-driving cock and swinging balls.
"Cuuuuummrnmmmm!" the half-crazed girl screamed again in her anguished desire to feel the little gunman's seething sperm pelt deep up into her womb . . . but nothing happened. She gave a low groan of frustration and her sweating body was beginning to subside when she heard Rita say,
"Suck me, Hammerhead!"
Lynn looked up and saw Rita's buttocks just above her. The black-haired girl had straddled her and was half-squatting down so that Hammerhead could bury his face in her crotch. The amazed young blonde saw his tongue dart out between the other girl's dark-fringed pussy lips and begin to lick her swollen, pinkly glistening clitoris and she felt his huge cock grow still bigger and harder as it continued to piston tirelessly into her wide-open cunt.
"Aaaaiiiiieeeeee! I'm cuuuuummmmrn-iiiiinnnnnggggg!" Rita screamed, seeming to do a strange primitive belly dance over Lynn as she churned her lathered pussy harder against Hammerhead's sucking mouth and swirling tongue. Drops of her hot pungent juices spattered down on Lynn's jiggling breasts and at the same time she felt the little gunman's bursting cock explode deep in her vagina, spitting out its molten load of hot sperm in staccato jerks, like a machine gun.
It was too much for the dazed young blonde. She came again.
Chapter Six
A few minutes after ten o'clock that night, just about the time Blitz ordered Lynn to get up off the floor and suck his cock, Steve Haddaway swallowed his pride and telephoned his stuck-up mother-in-law's house. He had been pacing around his apartment for over an hour like a caged tiger, wondering about the nutty story his little nit-wit of a wife had told him about the man and woman talking in the motel room. Of course she had made the whole thing up. He knew goddamn well there hadn't been any man in that room and he had his aching balls to prove it. Christ, that Dolores could fuck even better than she could suck. His thick cock lurched in' his pants every time he thought about her.
What worried him was Lynn's mention of Heinz. Like cops all over the world he knew the case history of the little Kraut who had been one of the youngest concentration camp commanders in Hitler's SS and then gone on to be the number one crook of the century. But how had Lynn known about him? Steve supposed she must have read an article about him somewhere although he hadn't seen any for a long time. For the past two years Heinz had been living quietly in a small Latin American country which he practically owned and he was no longer news.
So finally, when he caught himself tearing open his third pack of cigarettes that day, the burly detective admitted to himself that he was worried and dialed his mother-in-law's number. He just wanted Lynn to admit that she had made up that dumb-ass story.
"I'm sorry, Steve," Helen Timberlane replied when he asked to speak to Lynn. "She's gone to the movies."
Her cultured voice was composed and completely neutral, exactly as if she didn't know there was anything wrong between him and Lynn. In his mind's eye Steve could see her sitting in her elegantly furnished living room, looking chic and poised . . . and sexy.
"What movie did she go to?" he asked rapidly. "What time? Alone or with someone?" "She left about eight-thirty," Helen answered. "But that's all I know." This time there was an edge of irritation in her voice which indicated that what her daughter did was no longer any of Lieutenant Haddaway's business.
"Did she take her car?"
"Yes," Helen said, and hung up.
"Fuck you, you dumb cunt," Steve muttered angrily. He dialed Information and asked for the number of the Cherry Blossom Motel. The operator said she would call back. While he was waiting, he went into the kitchen and made himself a cup of instant coffee. Everything in the apartment reminded him of Lynn because she had picked out the furniture, but the kitchen was where he felt her absence most. She had already fixed him a couple of meals there and had turned out to be a surprisingly good cook. Somewhere along the line he had picked up the idea that food and sex went together and that good cooks were always good lays. Another busted-valise idea, he thought disgustedly.
After a few minutes the operator called back to tell him that the telephone service to the Cherry Blossom Motel had been temporarily suspended.
"That figures," the angry detective muttered irritably to himself. Cursing steadily under his breath, he locked the apartment, got his car out of the garage and drove the few miles out to the Cherry Blossom Motel. There wasn't much traffic and he made good time. The same sallow ferret-faced character was on the desk and, yeah, sure he remembered Steve and, yeah, sure he remembered checking another couple into the other half of that cabin later on because it was the last vacancy and he'd been able to grab a snooze. Yeah, he was absolutely sure. A sexy-looking brunette had signed the register while her boy friend stayed in the car behind the wheel. A blond guy wearing shades. Steve checked the register. Right after where he had signed Smith the night before someone had written Mr. and Mrs. R. Brown in a large childish scrawl.
As he tore back to the city wishing to christ he had a siren on his car, Steve tried to reassure himself. The face that Lynn had been telling the truth about what she had overheard didn't necessarily mean she was in any danger. It just meant that she must have also heard him fucking and sucking Dolores - or Rita - and that meant their marriage was really washed up. For chrissake, he reminded himself irritably. You already knew it was washed up. You wanted it to be washed up.
After turning the problem over in his mind for a while, he decided that the reason Rita had invited him to her room was to test him ... To find out if he knew you could hear through the partition wall. If he hadn't gone with her, than what? Probably the man called Blitz would have tried to kill him. This was a big deal and Blitz was working for Heinz. People working for Heinz didn't fuck around.
No, Steve told himself for the nth time as he entered the city and headed for Police Headquarters, Lynn couldn't be in danger. If Blitz had followed him when he drove her home that morning, both she and her mother would be in the morgue by now. The only way Blitz could have gotten his hands on her would be if she had found the house Rita rented and gone there. But that was impossible. She'd already given up trying to find it when she phoned him that afternoon. So she had to be in the movies. He would check later on, just to make sure. It was still too early for her to be home and he sure as hell didn't want to get the brush-off from her snooty bitch of a mother again.
That was why the first call Steve made when he reached his office at Headquarters was to the FBI instead of Helen Timberlane. It wasn't the first mistake he had made that night. Or the last.
Blitz was getting impatient. At first it had been fun to watch Lynn's pitiful efforts to suck him off. She'd never been fucked in the mouth before and he had to tell her what to do. Rub his balls together. Lick the underside of his cock. He enjoyed the miserable expression on her aristocratic-looking face and the way the muscles in her neck and belly tensed when she tried not to retch.
He didn't mind her being disgusted in the beginning because he figured that after she got a good taste of him she would warm up the way she had when Hammerhead fucked her. But she wasn't warming up. Shit, she was hardly getting the whole head of his cock in her soft buttery mouth. The idea that the runty little gunman could turn her on and he couldn't made Blitz furious. Finally he reached down, grabbed a fistful of her long honey-blonde hair and shoved down on her head. The sharp edges of her teeth bit into the swollen flesh of his rockhard cock as about half of it slipped into her protesting mouth.
"Don't chew it, you cunt!" he snarled. "Suck it!"
Just then the phone rang. Rita answered it and called over to Blitz. "It's Heinz."
"Oh, jesus!" the blond hood groaned. "Tell him I'm in the John. Ill be there in a minute."
He rolled over, pushing Lynn onto her side so that her head was trapped between the back of the couch and his pelvis. Then he began to fuck rapidly in and out of her gasping mouth, sinking a little more of his long hard rod between her obscenely stretched lips with each thrust. At first she tried to resist, then her eyes closed and she seemed to gradually relax. Pretty soon his hairy pelvis was mashing down on her slender nose and his bloated balls were banging against her chin. He could feel the bulbous rubbery head of his plunging cock glance along the roof of her mouth and slide down into the moist velvety depths of her throat. And she was really sucking him now. He could feel it in his balls. The little bitch was beginning to love it. They all did, after they got over their first scare. He stared fascinatedly down at her delicately molded face, watching the way her lips were pulled lewdly out in little pink ridges along his wetly glistening cock. When just the feverishly throbbing head was left in her mouth, she gave it a nerve-tingling little swipe with her tongue. That did it!
"Sheeeeee-ittttttt!" he groaned hoarsely as his seething cum geysered up the frantically jerking length of his prick and foamed into Lynn's gasping mouth so hard and fast she couldn't swallow it all. She was trying though, he gloated, noticing the gulping movement of her slender throat. This classy little cunt couldn't get enough of his hot cum. She loved it!
"You better hurry," Rita hissed warningly at him across the room. "Heinz is getting pissed off."
Reluctantly, Blitz pulled his still hard cock out of Lynn's mouth with a loud slurp and hurried across the room, dribbling sperm on the thick Persian rug.
"Vat iss diss!" Heinz's high-pitched, almost feminine voice snapped at him when he said hello. "You got constipation?"
"N-no. Sorry, boss," Blitz panted. "I-"
"You breathe funny," Heinz cut in waspishly. "You nervous or somet'ing?"
"No, it's just that something's come up," Blitz said. Then, practically sweating blood, he told his boss about Lynn and her story. He had a feeling the little Kraut wasn't going to believe it.
"Go to her house," Heinz snapped when he had finished. "Pick up everybody dere. Make sure you get everybody."
"But I told you I called the house five times," Blitz lied feebly.
"Dumkopf! Maybe out. Maybe diss girl giff wrong number. Go see. Den come get me where I told you."
"Don't faint on us, Pretty Boy," Hammerhead jeered at Blitz as he stood there with the dead receiver in his hand. "What's wrong? Duh boss ain't happy?"
"We got to pick him up tonight," Blitz said, finally shaking himself out of his daze. "You and me. Rita stays with the girl."
"Why both of you?" Rita asked suspiciously.
"We got to check her house first. Grab anybody there. What the hell's wrong with her now?" the blond hood added irritably, looking over at the couch where Lynn's prostrate body was stretched out inertly. "She passed out again?"
"She just had too much fun for one night," Rita sneered sarcastically.
"Take her upstairs and lock her in a room," Blitz told Hammerhead.
"You take her up, Pretty Boy. She's yours now, remember?"
Cursing viciously, Blitz carried the unconscious girl's limp body upstairs and dumped it on the first bed he came to. He'd known the little bitch was gonna mean trouble ever since he laid eyes on her. As an afterthought he tied her ankles and wrists to the four posters of the bed. The silly cunt was just crazy enough to jump out the window and break her neck. He didn't think Heinz would like that. He would want to question her. Blitz just hoped her story was true. For his sake.
Thanks to the FBI, Steve Haddaway knew the records and had pictures of Blitz and Hammerhead by a quarter after eleven that night. He had also learned that in accordance with the government's decision to allow Americans to purchase gold again a large shipment of bullion was to be flown to the west coast in the near future. The highly placed Treasury Department official he was finally able to contact gave no details about the shipment but implied that many millions of dollars were involved. He sounded extremely worried. The information was naturally Top Secret. Only a handful of men in his Department knew about the shipment.
Steve assured him he would do his best to find out who Heinz's informant was and hung up. Everything Lynn had told him dovetailed perfectly. To break this case all he had to do was find out what house Rita had rented that afternoon. That wouldn't be easy because of the number of real estate agencies in the area but in the morning he would put every available man to work on it. Meanwhile he figured he owed Lynn an apology. He knew he had destroyed their marriage that morning but the least he could do was apologize for not believing her. He thought she ought to be home from the movies by then, so he dialed his mother-in-law's number.
There was no answer.
Steve got on the radio. Less than ten minutes later one of the patrol cars in Georgetown reported back that neighbors had seen Mrs. Timberlane leaving her house with a tall blonde man. She had been carrying a small suitcase. Steve sent out a General Alert on Lynn, her mother and her car. Then he ground out his fifty-second cigarette of the day and clutched his aching head in his hands.
Chapter Seven
Lynn was dreaming that she was alone in an enormous deserted movie house. She was sitting in the middle of the last row and the tiers of empty seats sloped endlessly away from her toward the brilliantly lit screen which showed a huge full moon drifting silently through thick banks of swirling clouds. Suddenly the moon broke free of the clouds and shone down in all its radiant splendor on the naked spread-eagled form of a voluptuous blackhaired young girl.
The girl was lying on a smooth stone slab and her wrists and ankles were tied by leather thongs. In her dream Lynn understood that the girl was being sacrificed to the moon. Her large, beautifully shaped breasts rose and fell rapidly as she struggled vainly to free herself. The pure brilliance of the moon dwindled and seemed to focus briefly on the glossy black vee that glowed like black fire between the girl's shapely tapering thighs. Then clouds covered the sky again like vultures.
All around the helplessly spread-eagled girl mysterious shadows began to move. Ancient gnarled trees bent to the ground as if under the force of a terrible gale but still there was no sound. Then out of the wavering shadows appeared a huge black-coated German shepherd police dog. Lynn knew immediately that it was Brucie, the dog that had been stolen from her when she was a little girl just thirteen years old.
Brucie slank toward the stone slab with his sharp white teeth bared in a soundless snarl.
Lynn wanted to cry out to him to stop but she knew it was useless. When he reached the slab, Brucie stopped and sniffed. Then he bounded up on it between the spread-eagled girl's outstretched legs. His long pink slavering tongue drooled from his pointed muzzle. Lynn knew the awful thing he had been trained to do by the horrible perverted man who had stolen him. In her mind she cried out frantically, No, no!
Brucie! Don't do it! But there was a responsive flurry of prurient desire in her own alerted loins.
Brucie crouched down and dropped his massive head between the bound girl's shapely thighs. Then his long moist tongue curled out and he began to lick away the thick black pubic curls that lined her pussy lips until the pink slit of her cunt gleamed wetly in the light of the moon. Lynn watched in fascinated horror as the girl writhed her hips vainly in her efforts to escape the lewd ministrations of the dog's tongue. Then she became aware of a pressure on her own wildly tingling clitoris. There was a man sitting in the seat beside her. They were all alone in the enormous movie house and his hand was between her legs. She woke up with a terrified scream.
"It's about time," Rita sneered down at her. She was standing beside the bed with a leather steel-sprung riding whip in her hand. The end of it was wet. She had been diddling Lynn's cunt with it while the young blonde slept. With a sadistic smile on her madonna-like face she flicked the flexible tip of the whip down between Lynn's legs, raising a red welt on the soft creamy flesh of one of her thighs.
"Ouch!" the captive girl cried, trying to close her legs and sit up. It was only then that she realized her ankles and wrists were tied to the four bed posts. She was naked and spread-eagled, exactly like the girl in her nightmare.
"Yeah. . . Pretty Boy tied you up for safekeeping before he and Hammerhead left to pick up Heinz," Rita said. "Pretty Boy. I think that's a good name for that sonuvabitch, don't you? How did you like the taste of his cock?"
In spite of the total helplessness of her situation Lynn blushed violently. It seemed to her that her nostrils were still filled with the pungent male odor of the blond gangster's genitals and she could still taste his hot salty sperm foaming into her mouth out of his horrid spurting penis. She remembered with intense shame how finally she had given in and begun to really suck it, just to get the awful thing over with. But the worst part of it was that when he finally came, she had felt something . . . Not pleasure, god no! But a weird sense of fulfillment. She tried to squeeze her buttocks together to quench a resurgence of the eerie sensation but she couldn't.
"I guess you liked it," Rita said drily. The riding whip in her hand flicked again and Lynn felt a smarting twinge of pain on her inner thigh near her mound of Venus. She looked up at the black-haired older girl with pleading eyes but Rita's expression was implacable . . . malevolent.
"Heinz will be here soon," she said, raking Lynn's naked spread-eagled body with her hot black eyes. "He likes nice clean little girls like you. Nice tender blue-eyed blondes. Do you know what he does to them?" There was a cruel gloating little smile on her full sensual lips.
Lynn stared up at her tormentor with dull eyes and said nothing.
"He buggers them!" Rita smirked. "You probably don't even know what that means, do you? It means he fucks them up the ass, dearie. I hope you're virgin there. He likes cherry assholes. I'm sure glad you came along. If you weren't here, he might want to do it to me, and I hear he has the biggest cock in the world. Even bigger than Hammerhead's. Can you imagine what that's gonna feel like when he rams it up your asshole? Jesus!"
She looked speculatively at Lynn, then at the riding whip in her hand. "Maybe I can give you an idea of what it's gonna feel like, you stuck-up little bitch," she said. She climbed up on the bed between the helpless younger girl's out-stretched legs and pried her smooth-skinned buttocks apart with both her hands. Then with the sharp tip of one lacquered fingernail she prodded the tightly puckered little ring of her anus.
"Oh, please don't!" Lynn cried out, cringing away as best she could. She wasn't afraid of the pain. It was just the idea of another woman seeing her private parts completely exposed like that. . . and touching them . . . that revolted her.
"It's for your own good, dearie," Rita said with a mocking little smile. "We'll start with the little end of this whip and work up to bigger things." She drew the slender springy end of the riding whip along the wetly glistening pink valley of Lynn's cunt, then poked tentatively at the young blonde's quivering anus. After a second the moistened leather tip slipped smoothly through the tight rubbery little ring. Rita pushed it in about three inches and began to twirl it this way and that. "How does that feel?" she asked
"Oooooooohhhhh, godddddddd!" Lynn whimpered. It was just too awful. She felt herself getting excited in some weird horrible unnatural way. A niggling tingling sensation like a swarm of ants spread out from her rectum through her loins. Her exposed little clitoris began to swell and palpitate, clamoring for attention. She wouldn't have even minded if Rita . . . God, what's happening to me? she asked herself in horror as the forbidden thought of being made love to by another girl flashed into her befuddled mind. She didn't seem to have any control of herself. It must be the whiskey. . . and the way she had been brutalized by the two gangsters. They had turned her into an animal! In spite of herself her hips began to jerk and rotate as Rita pumped the whip rhythmically in and out of her tightly clasping rectum.
"I thought you'd like that," the black-haired girl said as she watched Lynn's contortions with clinical interest. "After all, it isn't as big as Hammerhead's finger and you certainly seemed to like that tonight. Now we'll try the other end." She pulled the whip out of the young blonde's anus and reversed it. The round butt end was capped with metal, flat on top and about three quarters of an inch in diameter. "This might hurt a little at first," she said casually. "It's too bad there isn't any vaseline around but I hear Heinzie don't use vaseline either."
"Ohhhhhh! Why are you doing this to me?" Lynn wailed. She couldn't understand why Rita seemed to hate her so. They were both women, weren't they? Both the victims of the Blitzes and Hammerheads of the world. Abruptly, the frantic young girl decided to take a last desperate chance. "Cut me loose!" she blurted out. "I know everything! We'll take my car and get away from here. The police are coming!"
"What!" Rita hissed. "What do you mean, you little bitch?"
"I was in the Cherry Blossom Motel last night," Lynn hurried on nervously. "I heard everything Blitz told you, about stealing the gold."
"So you told the police and they sent you out here," Rita snorted derisively. "Listen, you little cunt, how dumb do you think I am, anyway?"
"I didn't tell the police," Lynn said. Then, as quickly as possible, she explained how she had found Twin Oaks. "So you see my friend in the real estate agency knows where I am," she finished. "As soon as he finds out I'm missing, he will tell the police and they will come here."
Rita's hot black eyes narrowed. She thought of the money still in the bank in her name and the cash in the dispatch case that Blitz had left behind. She'd made sure he left it. It meant he and Hammerhead were't taking a powder on her. She could use all that dough. Then she thought of all the stories she had heard about Heinz and his SS buddies all over the world and decided uh-uh. Anyway, the fucking gate was locked and there was no way of climbing over the fucking wall that she could see. She was as much a prisoner as the little bitch tied to the bed.
"What's your friend's name?" she asked. "It wouldn't be Bill, would it?"
"No!" Lynn cried. She saw from the hateful expression on Rita's face that she had lost her gamble.
"I guess you heard Bill and me this morning, too," the black-haired girl smirked. "Bill sure likes to eat pussy, but I guess you know that. Now what's this friend of your's name?"
"I'll never tell you!"
"Maybe yes, maybe no," Rita shrugged. "But I'd bet my last dollar you'll tell Heinz. He killed two hundred thousand Jews and they say he had a lot of fun with them before they died, too. Now let's see how you like this."
She pried Lynn's trembling buttocks apart again and pressed the flat butt end of the riding whip against her defenseless little anal hole.
Then she shoved hard but the young blonde's tightly clenched sphincter muscles refused to yield.
"Goddammit!" the sadistic blackhaired girl snapped. Angrily, she gouged her sharp nails into the soft flesh of Lynn's buttocks and pulled them still farther apart. Then, by twisting the whip to the side, she got one sharp edge of the butt through the fearfully quivering ring of the helpless girl's asshole. Finally, after another tremendous shove, the whole metal handle disappeared up her brutally violated rectum with an obscene plop.
"Ooooooohhhhhhhhhhhh!" Fresh tears popped into Lynn's large blue eyes and she gritted her teeth against the scorching pain that followed the unnatural intrusion. She strained at the cords around her wrists and ankles but only succeeded in drawing the knots tighter. Another wave of searing pain swept through her tortured body as Rita levered the whip up at an angle between her cruelly splayed buttocks. -
"How does that feel, dearie?" the pitiless older girl asked with a malicious smile when she saw the tears flowing down Lynn's blanched cheeks. "Heinzie's cock must be three times as thick as this whip, so you can imagine what fun you're going to have when he gets here. Just let me know when this doesn't hurt any more and we'll try something bigger. Or maybe you'd like to tell me your friend's name?" When Lynn did not reply, she slowly pushed the metal handle up into the young blonde's rectum until about six inches of the whip had disappeared. When she drew it out again, there was blood on it.
"Shit," she muttered half to herself. "Maybe this ain't such a good idea. Heinz wouldn't like it if he found out about it." She studied Lynn's pale face with narrowed eyes, searching for another way to torment her. After a moment she got off the bed and carried the whip into an adjoining bathroom to wash it. When she returned, there was a vicious gleam of anticipation in her hot black eyes.
"How would you like to eat my pussy the way your husband did this morning?" she asked slyly, climbing back up on the bed. She reached down between Lynn's legs, parted the ragged gold-fringed lips of her cunt and cruelly pinched the shrunken little bud of her clitoris between her thumb and forefinger.
"Answer, dammit!"
"Oooooooohhhhhhh! Please leave me alone," Lynn begged tearfully. She wished Blitz and Hammerhead would come back. Anything would be better than being mauled by this sadistic hateful girl.
"Maybe you like this better," Rita said. She licked her forefinger and began to gently manipulate Lynn's clitoris, intently watching the young blonde's face. After a couple of minutes the little bud was swollen and quivering with desire but Lynn fought against it with all her strength. She would die, she vowed silently to herself, before she would let this horrified girl see that she was giving her pleasure. It was a hopeless struggle. Her treacherous body betrayed her again and soon her hips were arching ardently up off the bed in response to the skillfully caressing finger.
"You do like it better," Rita smiled. "You'd like me to suck it, wouldn't you?"
"Nooooooo! Noooooo!" Lynn cried out in horror. "Don't touch me!"
"You don't know what you're missing," Rita said. "Maybe you think your husband can suck good but it takes a woman to really know what a woman wants. But if you say no, okay. You can just suck me."
Lynn watched with stricken eyes as the older girl stood up on the bed and peeled off her halter dress. She had nothing on underneath it. Her full ripe berry-tipped breasts swung forward enticingly as she bent down to pick up the riding whip. Then she planted her feet astride the young blonde's torso and looked tauntingly down at her. Tapping the whip in the palm of one hand, she said, "How would you like me to piss right in your face?"
She reached down to the bushy black vee of glossy pubic curls between her tapering thighs and deliberately pulled apart her delicately layered pussy lips, so that Lynn found herself staring straight into the moist pink furrow of the shameless older girl's cunt. A strong scent of musk filled her nostrils and she turned her head miserably away. God, just that morning Steve had been sucking that cunt. She could still see him hungrily licking his lips before he started.
Rita laughed, turned around and squatted down so that she was facing Lynn's feet with her pussy about an inch from her tear-streaked cheek. "Okay. Eat me," she ordered.
"No!" Lynn hissed through clenched teeth. She could feel the animal warmth of the black-haired girl's genitals against her cheek and the musky scent of sex was overpowering.
"Yes!" Rita replied. She flicked the supple tip of the whip down into Lynn's crotch, aiming for her clitoris, and gave a satisfied chuckle when she saw the younger girl's hips flinch away. "Yes! Yes! Yes!" she chanted, punctuating each yes with a painful switch of the whip at the sensitive little organ between Lynn's pussy lips. "Yes, goddammit!" she said impatiently. When her victim still stubbornly refused to do her bidding, she brought the whip down in a harder slashing blow that caused a violent shudder to rack the tortured blonde's slim spread-eagled body.
"Oooooohhhhhhhhh, godddddddddd!" Lynn moaned piteously. She knew this merciless girl would keep on whipping her until she got her way. She would be maimed for life! Abjectly, filled with shame and loathing, she turned her head and looked up at the wetly glistening pink cunt-slit just above her face. Rita's curly black pubic hairs tickled the end of her nose. She would have to do it... The ultimate degradation!
Looking down between her wide-splayed thighs, the older girl adjusted her position and sank her clitoris down directly on Lynn's fresh young mouth. "Start sucking," she commanded hoarsely, slithering the tip of the riding whip in and out of the folds of her victim's blonde pussy.
Forlornly, knowing that she would never feel clean again, Lynn opened her mouth and timidly licked at Rita's swollen pulsating clitoris which was already covered with a film of her heady cuntal secretions.
"Aaaaaaahhhhhh, that's it! That's goooooood! Suuuuuccckkkk meeeeeee!" Rita breathed excitedly, mashing her cunt down harder on Lynn's unwilling mouth while continuing to twiddle the end of the whip around her captive's cringing clitoris. There was a hectic gleam in her hot black eyes and a cruel smile of satisfaction on her full sensual lips as she felt the young blonde slavishly licking and sucking her pussy. This would teach the snotty little bitch to go snooping around in other people's business. With her free hand she reached down and cruelly rolled the nipple of one of Lynn's milk-white breasts between her thumb and forefinger, wringing a stifled moan from her helpless victim.
"What the fuck's going on here!"
Rita's head jerked around in terror as Blitz suddenly burst into the bedroom, followed by a short pudgy toad-like man wearing a dark suit and carrying the kind of small black bag that doctors use on house calls. The black-haired girl had heard rumors about what was in that bag and a shiver of pure dread spiraled up and down her spine as she looked at the blandly smiling face of the man who carried it. Heinz was bald, flabby-jowled and pasty-colored. He certainly didn't look dangerous but Rita knew that all he had to do was raise a finger and Blitz would kill her without batting an eye.
"I told you to stay downstairs and keep watch, for chrissake!" the blond thug snarled.at her. "The place was wide open. Anybody could have walked in."
"Now, now, Blitz," Heinz said mildly. "Dere iss no harm done and girls vill be girls, ja." He gave a high-pitched giggle and plucked the whip out of Rita's hand. Half-paralyzed with fear, she was still squatting astride Lynn's face.
"Get the fuck off her!" Blitz barked at her, galvanizing her into action. She grabbed her halter dress, scrambled off the bed and ran toward the bathroom. Moving with surprising speed, Heinz caught her by the arm. She shivered violently at the clammy touch of his sausage-like fingers.
"Don't go vay," he said in his soft feminine voice. "I t'ink dat must be fun, ja? A little cunt-vhipping." He steered Rita back to the bed and bent over to inspect Lynn's inflamed, lewdly exposed genitals, shaking his head in disapproval. "She looks sore. You suck her, make better."
"Oh, nooooooooo!" Lynn wailed. Up until then she had been lying there in a state of shock, dazedly trying to imagine what horrible thing this pudgy little man who had killed two hundred thousand Jews was going to do to her. Whatever it was, she just wanted him to get it over with. She didn't want him standing there watching while she was defiled by that hateful Rita. She remembered how her body had responded to Hammerhead's brutish tonguing of her clitoris and a lurid thrill stirred in her loins. God, suppose in spite of everything I cum! she thought. "Please don't let her touch me," she pleaded.
"You like maybe better to vhip her cunt instead," Heinz suggested.
"Ohhhh, noooo. I don't want anything to do with her."
"Den I vhip her," Heinz shrugged, turning toward Rita. "Get down on all fours, Schnell!"
"Oh, please let me suck you!" Rita begged. There was so much pure terror in her voice that Lynn felt a twinge of sympathy for her in spite of what she had just suffered at the older girl's hands. She noticed how Rita kept staring with fascinated horror at the toadish little man's black bag and wondered what in the world could be in it. Probably things to torture people with. Despite the heat she felt a deadly chill settle in the marrow of her bones. God, so many things had happened to her, she had been debased and defiled in so many ways, what difference did one more make? After all, Rita was basically just as much a victim of these sadistic men as she was. She gave a helpless little shrug and said, "All right. Suck me." The lewd words released a new flow of unnatural desire in her treacherous loins.
"Gut! Gut!" Heinz exclaimed, rubbing'his meaty little hands together. "Ve haf a little show, ja? Blitz, bring up champagne and caviar. Such a hot night it is. Put on some music. Debussy. Somet'ing light. L'Apres-midi d'un Faune."
"Huh, boss?" the confused hood asked. "Put
Her graceful hips began to swivel up to Rita's sucking mouth and much sooner than she would have believed possible, with a low moan of release, she climaxed!
"Ooooohhhhhhhhh," she sobbed as the gentle soothing orgasm of an entirely new kind washed over her sore tormented body. "Oh, goddddddddd ..." If only she had let Steve do it, she wouldn't be here now. She wished she could die while this sweet swooning rapture lasted but it ended all too soon.
"Dot vas nice, ja?" Heinz giggled when the spasmodic jerking of the slim young blonde's hips subsided and she lay still again. "Untie her, Blitz."
The blond gangster untied Lynn's wrists and ankles and the pudgy little sadist led her downstairs. As soon as the door closed behind them, Rita turned to Blitz and told him everything she had learned from Lynn.
Blitz listened to her grimly. Rita wasn't telling him much he didn't already know, except how the little blonde bitch had found Twin Oaks. When he had gone to the address on her driver's license and found her mother there, he had presented himself as a plainclothes cop, told Mrs. Timberlane her daughter had been injured in an automobile accident and asked her to bring a bag of her personal effects to a nearby hospital. Because he had been holding Lynn's license in his hand, Helen Timberlane had not doubted him for an instant. On the way to the car Blitz had said he needed to know who her daughter's employer was and Helen had replied that Lynn wasn't employed as yet. So the little bitch wasn't working in no real estate agency, which meant she had to be the cunt in the Cherry Blossom Motel.
"What are we going to do, Blitz?" Rita asked in a worried voice when she had finished.
"Oh, I'll work something out," the tall blond thug answered casually. "Put on your dress and let's go downstairs." When she turned her back to him, he killed her with a karate chop at the base of the skull. Heinz's orders.
Chapter Eight
The call came shortly after midnight. The switchboard operator at Police Headquarters rang Steve's extension and told him he had a guy on the line who was asking for the Lieutenant's home number. Said it was personal.
"Put him through," Steve grunted.
"Lieutenant Haddaway?" the resonant voice at the other end of the line sounded surprised.
"Yeah. Who's this?"
There was a slight pause as if the man was trying to make up his mind whether or not to give his real name. Steve switched on the tape recorder connected to the phone.
"Pat Carney," the answer came finally. "I didn't expect you'd be working so late. I'm an old friend of Lynn's.
"What can I do for you, Mr. Carney?" Steve kept his voice neutral but he felt the tension mounting in him. Maybe somebody was worried. Maybe somebody wanted to know how much he knew. Maybe Heinz was already working on Lynn .. .
"I wonder if you would mind giving me your home number, Lieutenant. Lynn gave it to me this afternoon but I seem to have mislaid it," Pat said glibly. "I have some information for her about a story she's working on. She asked me to phone her as soon as I got it, no matter how late."
Sweat broke out on Steve's forehead. This character was obviously lying. He couldn't figure out why but his cop's instinct told him it was important.
"You saw Lynn this afternoon?" he asked casually.
"No. She phoned me."
"Hold on a minute, Mr. Carney," Steve said. He went into the next office and rang his apartment as he'd been doing every ten minutes for the last hour, hoping against hope. There was no answer. Naturally.
"Lynn isn't home yet, Mr. Carney," he said cautiously. "She went to visit her mother. You could try calling her there. I'll give you her number."
"I just phoned Mrs. Timberlane's house and there was no answer," Pat said.
Lynn had never mentioned any Pat Carney to him but the guy knew her and sounded genuinely worried. Steve decided to take a chance. "The truth is, Mr. Carney, Lynn and I had an argument. She went to spend the night at her mother's. I called quite a while ago and she was out. She told her mother she was going to the movies. She should have been back long ago. Frankly, I'm a little worried. I've been trying to locate her. Maybe if you told me what you talked about this afternoon, it would help."
So Pat told Steve Lynn's story about Rita Rodriguez, her father the writer, and how he had located the house she had rented. "I tried to call there too," he finished. "But it's an unlisted number. The operator wouldn't give it to me. Maybe I ought to go out there."
"I don't think that'll be necessary," Steve drawled casually. The last thing in the world he wanted was some joker blundering into Heinz's gang and wiseing them up that their hideout was blown. "Lynn probably just hit it off real well with this Mr. Rodriguez and is getting a long interview. But I'll check it out. Just tell me where this place is and I'll have a patrol car drop by to make sure everything's okay."
He took down the directions for getting to Twin Oaks and said, "Well, thanks a lot, Mr. Carney. This takes a great load off my mind."
"Will you call me back after you've checked it out?" Pat asked. He gave his number.
"Be glad to," Steve said, and hung up. As he took his regulation police thirty-eight out of the desk drawer and checked the clip, he wondered briefly who the fuck this Pat Carney with his phony excuses for calling Lynn was. Probably an old boy friend who couldn't wait to give it another try. Then he spoke some terse instructions into the tape recorder. On the way out he told the duty sergeant to go up and listen to the tape if he hadn't checked back within two hours.
A moment later he was speeding toward Twin Oaks. It was in Virginia, out of his jurisdiction, but he had immediately decided that this had to be a one-man operation. The Virginia police would want to cordon off the house and it would take too much time. It wouldn't do any good with Heinz holding Lynn and her mother as hostages, anyway. The little Kraut had to be taken by surprise. The thought of what that SS bastard might already be doing to Lynn made the skin on the back of Steve's neck crawl.
In the magnificent baronial dining room at Twin Oaks Heinz had just finished a midnight snack of lobster salad washed down with his favorite Bernkastler white wine and Blitz had just finished telling him what Rita had found out from Lynn. He knew Heinz would make the little blonde cunt talk before the night was over anyway, so he had nothing to lose. Except his life, he reflected bitterly. He only had one thing still going for him. Heinz needed him to fly the plane. After that his life wouldn't be worth a plugged nickle. His only chance was to kill Heinz and persuade the little Kraut's friends that someone else had done it. That wasn't going to be easy with Hammerhead around. The tall blond gangster nervously fingered the little automatic in his pocket. Not easy at all.
Heinz sipped the chilled wine in his glass, then patted his thick lips delicately with a gleaming white damask napkin. "I'm glad you tell all diss," he said. "Of course, you know I find it oud, anyvay, ja?"
"Fucking blabber mouth," Hammerhead grunted, glaring at Blitz as if he'd like to gun him down right then and there.
"Now, Hammerhead, mein friend," the pudgy little man said reprovingly. "It is only human to make mistakes."
"We got to get this real estate guy and shut him up," the little gunman growled.
"I guess so," Heinz sighed sadly. "Or else leave diss beautiful haus. Such a beautiful haus. Rita had such good taste." He looked speculatively at Lynn who was sitting in a daze at the dining room table between him and Blitz and squeezed her bare buttock with his thick little fingers.
Lynn shivered. She was completely naked except for a little waist apron the sadistic little man had made her put on. Somehow it was worse than having nothing on at all. More obscene. She had forced herself to drink a lot of the white wine to deliberately numb her mind against the horror of what lay ahead of her. Heinz kept urging her to eat but she couldn't swallow a bite. Vaguely, she wondered again who had prepared the food. She didn't know it was her own mother, who was now gagged and tied to a chair in the pantry.
"I t'ink de liddle lady tell de trut' aboud diss real estate agent," Heinz said. "He don't let her come oud here if she tells hum aboud us and our plans."
"I don't think she told anyone about us," Blitz put in quickly. "Or the police would be out here already."
"Unless she tell somebody and dey don' belieff her ride avay," Heinz went on thoughtfully. "Den vhen she iss missing, dey belieff and das iss de end. Kaput de last tango. Maybe she tell her husband diss morning. Vhat's your husband's name?" he bawled suddenly at Lynn in his high squeaky voice.
The sharp question abruptly jolted the frightened girl out of her alcoholic stupor. "I won't tell you!" she blurted out defiantly.
"Oh, veil. Ve find out soon enough," Heinz sighed. He looked Lynn up and down with an evil gleam in his piggish little eyes and gently stroked her bare satin-skinned back, letting his pudgy hand come to a rest at the base of her spine in the crevice between her cringing buttocks.
"Such a beautiful body. It iss a shame not to enjoy it before ..." He let his voice trail off with sinister vagueness and glanced significantly down at the black bag by his feet. "Vhy don't you fock her, Blitz?" he asked suddenly.
"Shit, boss, I-I don't feel like it right now," the tall thug stuttered. "I thought you wanted her."
"Ja, ja. I do," Heinz said blandly. "Ve sandvich her. You in front. Me in back. Gut! Ve go in living room. On dat beautiful rug. You start. I am old man. I need to vatch a liddle first. Hammerhead, you go in kitchen. Keep do cook company."
"Gotch'a boss!" The runty gunman jumped up and went out with a broad grin on his thin slit mouth.
Heinz picked up the black bag, took Lynn by the arm and sauntered into the spacious living room. Blitz lingered behind, nervously touching the gun in his pocket again. He wished it was bigger. And for the first time in his life he was afraid he wouldn't be able to get it up. Then suddenly he had an idea. If he could kill Heinz before Hammerhead got though with Lynn's mother in the kitchen, then maybe he could sneak up on the little bastard and blast him. Afterwards he could say Hammerhead went nuts and shot Heinz.
Quickly he strode into the living room, stripping off his shirt as he went. Lynn was standing dolefully by the couch. She wasn't sure she had heard right. Sandwich her! Did that mean they were both going to do it to her at the same time? God, after all she already been through that night! Why didn't they just go ahead and kill her? If that horrid little sadistic toad's penis was as big as Rita had said, it would kill her when he pushed it up her behind anyway. She just stood there listlessly when Blitz pulled off her apron and started to passionately kiss her all over her face.
"Listen," the blond gangster whispered tensely in her ear, keeping an eye on Heinz who was on the other side of the room selecting another record to put on the machine. "Maybe I can get you out of this. I'm going to kill that little bastard and then get Hammerhead if I can. Do you understand?"
When Lynn just stared back at him with vacant eyes, he shook her fiercely. "Goddammit!" he hissed. "He's going to kill me, too. Don't you see that!" Quickly he pulled off his pants.
Gradually, he saw comprehension, then a glimmer of hope, flicker in the dazed young blonde's eyes and whispered in her ear. "Act like you're getting excited very fast, so he won't stand around watching too long. When he lies down behind you, I'll get him!"
Lynn nodded and began to work the foreskin rapidly back and forth on his half-hard penis. When it was fully erect, she gave a little moan, dropped to her knees on the rug and sucked the bulging purplish head into her mouth without hesitating. It didn't disgust her in the least now. Her life was at stake. She reached out with both slender hands and started to knead his balls together the way he had showed her before.
Heinz put the Fifth Symphony by Gustave Mahler on the record player and watched what Lynn was doing with interest. She was obviously putting on an act. He selected a Havana cigar from the humidor, poured himself a glass of Remy Martin cognac and strolled over to the couch to watch.
"Oooooooooo, fuck me now, Blitz! Fuck me now!" Lynn begged, letting his rigidly twitching cock slurp out of her mouth and writhing on the floor at his feet. She splayed out her slim shapely legs and reached down to pull the ragged golden-haired lips of her pussy apart, revealing the enticingly glistening pink durrow of her cunt. God, the lewd words and acts were making her excited in spite of everything, she realized in some remote, still lucid corner of her alcohol-blurred brain. She was incurable. The groan of contentment she uttered when Blitz sank down on top of her and she felt the slick lust-swollen head of his cock slide down her juicy cunt to the fluttering entrance of her vagina was only half faked.
"Yeeeeeessssssss!" he hissed eagerly when with a hard twist of his supple hips he drove the whole throbbing length of his rockhard penis into her moist heated channel. Soon he was driving in and out of her soft velvety vagina with long smooth strokes as she arched up to meet him. Heinz watched for a few minutes, then said, "Okay, Blitz. Roll de liddle lady ofer on her side." He got down on the floor behind Lynn without taking off his clothes, reached over and took the gun out of Blitz's pants, then unzipped his fly. His huge swollen penis sprang out like a striking cobra, the immense head flaring out threateningly from its massive shaft. Rita had been right. This pudgy effeminate little man with the high-pitched voice was the freak of freaks!
Lynn felt Blitz's body tense as he rolled her over and prepared to strike the blow that might save both their lives. Fearfully she closed her eyes and waited. But no blow ever came.
"Just in case you got funny ideas," Heinz said.
Lynn opened her eyes and saw that the little sadist was pointing a small black pistol straight at Blitz's head. Her heart sank. God, it was hopeless! She felt a pudgy hand prying between her quivering buttocks and a finger poking into her tightly puckered little anus. After a moment the finger was withdrawn and she heard the obscene sound of gluttonous sucking.
"Gut! Gut!" the revolting little man muttered to himself. He did this incredibly disgusting thing several more times, sticking his finger farther and farther up her rectum, then Lynn felt something hard, hot and bulbous pressing against her tiny cringing nether hole. God, she thought frantically, it is bigger than Hammerhead's. It will rip me to shreds! Just the enormous head of it seemed to fill her whole anal crevice. She shuddered uncontrollably as the intolerably pressure gradually increased. Then Heinz said to Blitz, "Poooosssshhhh!"
The two men simultaneously surged against her and the huge blood-gorged head of the mammoth penis between her flinching buttocks popped through the tight elastic ring of her brutally stretched anus deep into the warm virgin depths of her rectum.
"AAAAAAAAAARRRRRRRRRGGGGGG HHHHHHHH!" the cruelly skewered young girl's tortured scream soared and blended with the thundering chords of Mahler's Fifth Symphony. A sheet of blinding flame enveloped Lynn's inert body. She felt like she had been plunged into the depths of Hell itself.
When his headlights picked up the sign at the entrance of Twin Oaks, Steve continued along the narrow winding road for a good half mile. He cursed every second he wasted doing this but he couldn't take a chance of someone on guard hearing him turn around near the house. Lynn had overheard only three names mentioned, besides Rita's, but it hardly seemed likely that Heinz would tackle a job this big with just two men and a girl. There could be a small army inside that wall.
After he had made his turn, Steve drove back at top speed and did not stop until he was around a bend about two hundred yards past the far end of the wall. Then he parked, took a rope with a grappling hook on the end of it from the trunk of his car and ran swiftly across a field until she reached the section of wall behind the house. Then up went the grappling hook into the branches of a tree. A few seconds later he was inside the ground of Twin Oaks, moving stealthily through the shadows under the big trees toward the rear of the house. As he got nearer to it, he saw a lighted window and heard music. He'd read about Heinz's weakness for music and in a way he was thankful for it now. In a way he wasn't. It probably meant Heinz was there.
When he reached some scattered outbuildings close to the house he stopped and forced himself to wait five minutes. There was no sign of any guards moving around, so, gun in hand, he sprinted across the open space toward a point about fifty feet from the lighted window. Then he edged his way along the wall until he could peer through it. The first thing he saw was a cooking stove and some copper pots hanging in a row on a wall. The second thing he saw almost knocked him flat on his ass.
Helen Timberlane, stark naked, was spraddled on the lap of a brutish dwarf-like man with stunted legs who was sitting on a chair. From the FBI photos Steve recognized him as the gunman called Hammerhead. They were facing almost toward the window and he could see their faces plainly, but because of what they were doing he didn't think it very likely they would spot him. Tears were streaming down Helen's ashen cheeks and she was biting her lower lip so hard there was blood running from it. Her long slender legs were lewdly outspread, hooked over the runty man's, and into the clearly visible, pinkly glistening furrow of her wide-stretched cunt was slowly sliding the biggest cock the astonished detective had ever seen. From the base of it swung the hairless sac of a pair of enormous balls.
"C'mon, lady. What's yer daughter's husband's name?" Hammerhead growled. Helen shook her ash-gold head vehemently.
The runty gunman pushed down on her thighs and another inch of his huge cock disappeared between the tortured older lady's tautly spread pussy lips. Fresh tears flowed down her delicately ovalled cheeks but she bit her lip harder and refused to speak. Steve's gun burned in his hand. He had a clear shot at Hammerhead but he knew that if he fired, it would probably cost Lynn her life. He had to get into the house without anyone knowing it.
Cautiously he moved along the wall to his right until he reached another lighted window around the side. It opened on the dining room which was empty. By the four plates and glasses on the table, Steve saw that four people had recently eaten there. He just hoped to god that the four people were Lynn, Helen, Blitz, and Hammerhead. If Heinz hadn't arrived yet, that meant Lynn was probably still relatively safe.
Relatively . .. Christ, if Hammerhead had already shoved that huge cock into her . . .
The burly detective tried to force the window open but it was securely locked from the inside. So were the others he tried as he moved along the house. He guessed it must be air-conditioned. As he passed more and more empty rooms, though, his hopes steadily rose. Maybe Heinz hadn't gotten there yet. When he reached the front door, he wasted precious minutes trying to unlock it with the set of skeleton keys he'd brought with him. Finally he succeeded in turning the lock, only to find that the door had been hand-bolted from the inside.
Farther on he passed what he judged was one very large room where heavy drapes had been drawn across the windows and he couldn't see in. This was where the music was coming from and he figured Blitz and Lynn must be in there. The music bothered him. It was strange, sort of discordant, and not the kind that would appeal to a mug like Blitz. Shit! That meant Heinz was probably in there too.
Eventually Steve arrived back at the kitchen window where he had started out and what he saw this time amazed him even more than before. Hammerhead was rapidly raising and lowering Helen Timberlane up and down on his lap, sinking the whole hard thick shaft of his huge cock up into her moistly sucking cunt,
then lifting her up so that the full length of the wetly glistening rod of flesh reappeared between her tightly clasping pussy lips and . . . she was helping him! She was actually bouncing herself up and down on the runty gunman's scrawny thighs and her delicate aristocratic features were contorted in a grimace of agonized ecstasy.
Christ, she'd enjoying it! She's loving it! the dumbfounded detective muttered to himself as he watched his snooty mother-in-law's lips peel back over her teeth and her mouth open. God-amighty, she's gonna cum! This hot-shot society dame is gonna cum with that ugly little hood!
' ' Ooooo ooohhhhhhhhh! Uuuuuunnnnnnnnhhhhhh!" Helen thrashed wildly on Hammerhead's lap for a long moment and Steve could see her frothing cunt juices splashing down on the little gunman's bloated balls. Then she slumped forward on his knees and he dumped her contemptuously on the floor.
"Ya liked that, didja, lady?" he sneered with a cruel grin in his thin slit mouth. "Well, now we'll see how ya like it up the ass."
He stood up and Steve saw that his huge cock with its gleaming purplish head was just as stiff and hard as ever. He also saw the butt of the big automatic swinging under the little runt's armpit.
"Ooooohhhhh, please leave me alone!" Helen begged, groveling on the floor, overcome by shame and self-disgust that she had actually been brought to orgasm by this horrid deformed little criminal.
"Sure, lady," Hammerhead grinned evilly. "Just tell me the name of your daughter's husband and I'll leave ya alone.
"Noooooooo . . . ! Helen wailed pathetically.
"Okay. So ya get it up the ass." Hammerhead reached down, grabbed a fistful of the slender woman's ash-blonde hair and hauled her roughly to her feet. "But let's go see what's happenin' in the living room, huh?" With a nasty snicker he reached between her shapely, rounded buttocks and goosed her hard. Then he pushed her ahead of him through a swinging door.
Steve had a glimpse of what he recognized as the dining room, then he ran to the back door which opened into the kitchen. It was locked. He drew out his ring of skeleton keys and went feverishly to work.
Incredibly, as Heinz implacably drilled his monstrous penis quarter-inch by quarter-inch up into the warm dark forbidden depths of her rectum until the huge shaft was buried to the hilt between her quaking buttocks, Lynn surfaced from the sea of searing pain into which she had been plunged, gasping hysterically for breath but knowing that she was going to survive. She could feel the cloth of the fat little sadist's pants pressing against her ass cheeks and knew that she had taken the worst he could give!
If she could do it once, she told herself grimly when she felt him start to withdraw, she could do it as long as the evil little creep could keep it up. Slowly, with a gloating expression on his jowly toad face, Heinz drew out until just the huge throbbing head of his giant cock was still inside the lewdly out-turned ring of Lynn's forever-stretched anus, creating a sort of niggling suction sensation deep in her bowels. When he bored back into her, there was much less pain. Gradually, her supple body adjusted itself to the abnormal intruder and soon Heinz was fucking into her asshole with long smooth strokes as easily as Blitz was fucking into her cunt.
For a long time the doubly skewered young blonde let herself be buffeted limply back and forth between the two gangsters, feeling their two huge rockhard cocks slamming into her twin passages separated only by a thin membrane. Then, for the fourth time that day, she felt the inevitable swirl of pleasure in her feverish loins and began to surge back and forth between them. Why not, she asked herself. Why not seize this last pleasure before I die? She closed her eyes and began to hump her ass back on Heinz's pummeling cock, milking it to the end with her tight anal ring, then crashing forward to swallow up Blitz's swollen rod of flesh into her hungry cunt. She knew she had hit rock bottom ... to enjoy being sandwich-fucked by two evil men . . . but so what!
Then suddenly Blitz came! She could feel his hot sperm spurt out deep up into her vagina but even after it had stopped and she could feel his penis start to soften inside her, he continued to grind his pelvis againsts hers. Surprised, she opened her eyes and saw the frantic expression on his face. His forehead was covered with sweat and his thin mouth was clamped tight in a grim line. When he saw her looking at him, he rolled his tawny eyes in the direction of the gun Heinz was holding on him and with his lips silently formed the words, Make him cum!
Lynn understood. When Heinz came. Blitz was going to make one last desperate effort to get the gun and save their lives. Excitedly, she began to hump her ass back on the pudgy little man's plunging cock faster and faster.
"Harder!" she yelled. "Fuck me up my ass harder, dammit! Aaaaaaiiiiiieeeee! Oooooooohhhhhhhh! Yessssssssss!"
Steve Haddaway burst into the room just at that moment and his gun almost dropped from his hand. On the floor right in front of him was his mother-in-law down on all fours, straining with all her might not to be driven into the rug by the pile-driving blows of Hammerhead's mighty cock as he fucked unmercifully into her impossibly stretched asshole and across the room Lynn was sandwiched between Blitz and Heinz yelling out to be fucked harder! Harder! Her back was toward him and he could see Heinz's enormous cock spearing in and out of her rectum, pulling obscene little ridges of glistening pink flesh with it on the out-stroke. The thunder-struck detective's mouth dropped open and he just stood there staring at the unbelievable spectacle.
"Steve!"
Helen Timberlane's scream jolted him out of his trance at the last second. Hammerhead was already spinning toward him, the big Browning appearing magically in his hand. Steve shot him between the eyes and charged across the vast room toward Lynn like an enraged bull. Heinz had twisted away from the young blonde and was raising the small black automatic when Blitz killed him with the same karate chop at the base of the skull he had used on Rita.
Using Lynn's body as a shield, the blond hood grabbed the automatic and had time to shoot
Steve once before the burly detective dove over his wife's body and grappled with him. Blitz jabbed Steve hard in the solar plexus with his stiffened fingers, a blow that would have put an ordinary man out of action. Steve just grunted, hooked Blitz once to the jaw and the fight was over.
"Oh, Steve! Steve! Are you all right?" Lynn cried hysterically when she saw the blood welling from a wound in her husband's massive left shoulder.
Steve stared silently at his frightened wife, ignoring the wound. He knew it was just a scratch. "You were enjoying what these two bums were doing to you?" he asked incredulously.
Lynn blushed furiously. "No!" she lied. "I-I was just trying to get the one in back to cum -he's Heinz - so the one in front could get the gun. Heinz was going to kill me and the one in front, too. I was just pretending, Steve," she insisted.
"Yeah?" Steve drawled skeptically, searching deep in his wife's wide blue eyes. "Jesus, the way you talk about it. The one in back, the one in front." He shook his shaggy head bewilderedly.
"Well, I couldn't help it!" Lynn flared at him. Then she began to sob. "Oh, Steve, if you only knew what they did to me. Will you take me home and fuck me and fuck me and fuck me and make me clean again?"
"Is that what you really want, baby?" Steve asked slowly. "After what I did this - Say, where is that broad anyway?"
"I'm afraid she's dead, Steve," Lynn said. "She never came down from upstairs. I don't mind what you did with her any more, honey. I know it was all my fault. And I almost got you killed!" the distraught young girl wailed. "Please say you'll take me home and-"
"Fuck you and make you clean again," Helen Timberlane said calmly. "I wish I had somebody I could say that to."
"Mother!" Lynn exclaimed in a scandalized voice as for the first time she saw her mother, stark naked like herself, struggling to get out from under Hammerhead's corpse. "'What are you doing here!"
"Oh, I've been here all along," Helen remarked drily. "In the kitchen. Who do you think fixed that delicious lobster salad you ate?" She finally succeeded in rolling Hammerhead's body off her and walked toward them, apparently completely unconcerned by her nakedness. "Are you sure you're all right, Steve?" she asked anxiously when she saw the blood on his shoulder.
"It's just a scratch, Mrs. Timberlane," the burly detective said. "You saved my life."
"Well, you saved ours," the elegant ash-blonde woman replied. She smiled coquettishly up at her rugged son-in-law. "And I think you should call me Helen after what we've been through together tonight. Don't you?"
"All right. . . Helen," Steve smiled back at her.
Lynn caught the appreciative glint in his steel grey eyes as they roved over her mother's trim youthful body. "Mother, I think you should put some clothes on!" she exclaimed sharply.
"Oh, don't be jealous, dear," Helen said mildly. "I admit I wouldn't mind . . . sleeping with Steve. But I don't think it would be quite proper, do you?"
"I certainly don't!" Lynn said indignantly, shrinking possessively against her husband.
"Well, don't worry, dear," the older woman said soothingly. "But I do think I'll give your father a ring."
"Oh, mother! Will you really!" Lynn exclaimed happily.
"Yes," Helen said. "I've learned something from this awful night."
"I guess we all have," Steve agreed, giving his young wife an affectionate hug. She turned and gazed up at him adoringly.